Chapter Forty-One – Kendall
Johnnie’s words got to Kendall more than they should have, considering the decision she’d reached about her marriage.
“Fuck him, Kendall.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Johnnie. Fuck him. He’s throwing a tantrum like a bitch with a bleeding cunt.”
Kendall frowned. “That’s a disgusting analogy.”
“Only because you’re a high-class bitch.”
She glanced away, thinking of her middle-class beginnings.
“You really see Mortician as a brother?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I did,” she said, sighing. “And, yes. A brother and my closest friend aside from Meggie.”
“That would impress Cleaner.”
“Roddie, right?”
Bash nodded. “He has a thing against chicks like you who wouldn’t fuck him.”
“Wait, what? You’ve fucking lost me. What kind of chick am I? And I wouldn’t fuck him.”
“Why? Because of the way he looks or because he’s a fuckhead?”
“The way he…” His meaning dawned on her and she widened her eyes. “That motherfucker could be purple, and I wouldn’t want to fuck him. I’m married. It would have nothing to do with his color.”
“Not everyone is as progressive as you.”
“I’m not responsible for everyone, am I?”
“I love you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know you’re too smart for Johnnie. If I would’ve asked him what I just asked you, he’d still be trying to figure out what the fuck I mean.”
“That isn’t true,” Kendall said, shaking her head. “Johnnie is brilliant.”
“Either he has a big cock or a long tongue for him to have hypnotized you so thoroughly.”
“Let’s get to the matter at hand,” she ordered.
Bash’s eyes lit up. “Would you issue orders while you’re riding my cock?”
“If you mention you dick one more time, fuckhead, the meeting’s over.”
“We didn’t need it in the first place.”
“Of course we—”
“I told you I’d take care of it.”
“But have you?”
He opened his mouth and Kendall shook her head.
“Bringing me flowers, flirting with me, asking me out means nothing if you want to hurt my daughter. Meggie and her daughter. My husband’s club.”
“Does how I feel about you make a difference?”
Kendall shook her head. “How would you feel if I was married to you and another man was trying to take me away?”
“I’m not Johnnie. I’d appreciate you and your worth, Kendall,” he gritted in annoyance. “And if another motherfucker brought you flowers and you accepted them, I’d kill both of you.”
“How fucking romantic,” she snapped.
“For me, it is,” he grouched. “I usually kill cunts because they’re cunts. With you, I’d kill you for being a cheating cunt.”
“I accepted your fucking flowers and you don’t think I’m a cheater.”
“I don’t fucking count.”
“Of course not, fuckhead. You fucking maniacs are just alike.”
“I’m nothing like Johnnie, gorgeous.”
“I didn’t mean Johnnie. I meant that other psychopath. Christopher.”
He didn’t have fucking eyebrows at the moment, but she knew they would’ve lifted by the movement of his forehead. “You think I’m like Christopher.”
“Is that a good thing?” she asked slowly.
Bash thought for a moment, then nodded.
He liked being compared to Christopher? Well, then. “You admire him,” she guessed, reaching out and patting his hand. “It’s okay. It’s a disease. It’s almost killed Johnnie on more than one occasion.”
Bash kept his gaze on their hands before he reached out and grabbed her fingers, laying them against his arm. She didn’t move or flinch, especially when his eyes flared in surprise and he looked at her.
“Come out with me, Kendall. I’ll do my best to say the right things. When it’s over, I swear I won’t force my cock down your throat if you don’t want it there.”
Kendall cleared her throat. “As flattered as I am by your offer to take me out, I love Johnnie,” she said, and gently squeezed his arm.
He met her gaze. “If Johnnie wasn’t in the picture, I’d have a chance?”
Only if she was a fucking lunatic. Laughing merrily, she removed her hand and clasped both in front of her. “That’s a trick question, sir.”
He snickered. “How so?”
“Come on, fuckhead,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If I said yes, we both know he’d turn up dead.”
“You really do love him then?”
“I don’t make a habit of saying something I don’t mean. I adore Johnnie.” She did with everything in her. She just didn’t believe in him anymore. “I want to punch him sometimes—”
“I volunteer to do the job on your behalf.”
“I’ll pass, thank you.”
“If you ever need me, you know where to find me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but I assure you your services won’t be needed if it’s to hurt Johnnie.”
“By the end of our meeting, you may feel differently,” Bash declared. “Just keep an open mind, baby.”
“I’m notoriously tunnel-visioned,” she said cheerfully.
“Doesn’t mean you’re not willing to explore your options.”
“Fine,” she said, shrugging. “Shoot your shot. Just don’t expect a different answer. Now, where were we?”
“Discussing how velvety your brown eyes are?”
“Before that,” Kendall said primly.
“Johnnie doesn’t deserve you. I’ll bet it’s been weeks since he complimented you.”
Months actually, but who was counting?
“If I had been in Christopher’s position, I would’ve fucked you.”
“Who would’ve guessed?” she retorted.
He blew her a kiss. “I love a sassy bitch.”
Shaking her head, she flipped him off, and he clutched his heart.
“I just fell deeper in love.”
“You’re full of shit,” she chortled.
“If you don’t want to go to a bar, I can take you to the opera. Madama Butterfly is playing in San Francisco. Looked it up just for you, baby.”
As much as she hated to admit it, Bash was charming her. She blamed Johnnie, because the psychopath before her was showing her more attention than the one she married.
She drew in an irritated breath, tired of Bash’s flirting and resenting Johnnie’s neglect. “Your begging does not align with how cavalierly you mention the rape and murder of women. Like you kill them for fun.”
“And?” he said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
Kendall wondered if she’d get any real answers from Bash. Or even Hopper’s phone number. Another goal of hers. It didn’t matter if he was really backing off, she still had questions.
“Why’d you dress up for me? Look so fucking gorgeous? Smell so good?”
She’d opt for honesty. “I wanted to get on your good side,” she admitted. “I need answers,” she stressed again.
“I don’t trust cunts, so I don’t let them get on my good side.”
What could she say to that? She kept her face blank.
His gaze fastened on her breasts. She resisted the urge to slide down or cross her arms over her chest. Instead, she met his gaze.
“Do you want to know how big my cock is? I’d love to know how wet your cunt gets.”
She ignored him. “Was Patricia really married to Cee Cee?”
Fuck, the questions were so goddamn long overdue, they felt a little anticlimactic and left her disappointed.
“Don’t you have the records?”
“All indications point to them being married. However, Logan Donovan had a birth certificate for Christopher that lists Patricia with her maiden name. A second certificate has her married name.”
“They were married.” Folding his arms, he leaned back. “I was the flower boy.”
Oookkkkaaayyy. Moving on. “I see.”
Realizing she’d forgotten a tablet, she got to her feet and walked to the console where extra office supplies were kept. She got two pens and two pads, handed one of each to Bash and then sat again.
She logged her question and his response.
“No shock that I said I was a flower boy?”
“Not at all. You could’ve been the dancing penguin for all I care. I want facts, not irrelevant minutiae.”
“I want facts, too.” He leered at her breasts. “Are your pussy hairs as red as the hair on your head?”
Interspersed with gray. Or it would be if she didn’t keep herself shaved.
She rolled her eyes. “I expected more originality from you, but I’m a true redhead. Let your decrepit mind take that however you will.”
“What if I told you I have an idea of how you look underneath your clothes?”
“There’s more than one nude photo of me floating about,” she said evenly, “so it isn’t shocking.”
“You’re a tough bitch. Ice cold.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I was complimenting you.”
“Go back to school because you fucking suck at it.”
He chortled, then held his hand out. “Never thought I’d apologize to a cunt, but I’m sorry for the disrespect, princess.”
She accepted his hand and shook, not surprised when he ran his finger down the center of her palm. “Apology accepted.”
“What’s your next question?”
“Was Patricia…was Patricia…”
Fuck, how would she even ask this. If those letters were lies, somehow falsified, then she and Meggie could sleep easier and destroy the forged ones.
If the insane amount of documents contained accurate information, then she’d forever worry Christopher would learn the truth about his mother and destroy his life until she rounded up all the copies.
She didn’t have the slightest clue how to do that since she didn’t know all the players.
“Was Patricia what, Kendall?”
“Erm, how nice was she?”
“Nice? Her? Not at fucking all. That bitch was a psycho. Pitched pussy everywhere. Maybe she was trying to come. Who knows? Daddy liked fucking her because she couldn’t get off. Supposedly. Too much of a lady and all that bullshit.”
“So…uh…” She cleared her throat and pursed her lips. “She killed people?”
“Her mother, Johnnie’s mother—her sister—my niece, Rack’s bitch, Daddy’s favorite slut, and about fifteen others.”
Fuck. “She hated women?”
“She hated everybody. Except Christopher and Zoann. Don’t even think she liked none of her other daughters. And she didn’t only kill broads. She killed a couple motherfuckers, too. She also aborted three or four brats.”
“Jesus Christ,” Kendall mumbled.
He smiled. “Too graphic?”
“A little shocking. How much of this does Johnnie know?”
“All of it. So does Ryan. My guess is Rory as well.”
“You think that because they all visited you?”
“Yeah. Unless Johnnie is a soulless fuck as well as a dumb one, he wouldn’t put his kid in danger without good reason.”