Free misunderstoodebook by Kathryn Kelly Page A

send it to Logan,” he countered. “Rest tonight. Go fuck one of the Dwellers. I don’t care. Just make sure you have what the fuck I need by the time I speak to you tomorrow evening.”

    Leaning against the wall in his room, Johnnie sipped from a bottle of beer, the song on the radio one he’d have chosen as part of the soundtrack for his life. Say Something by Alex and Sierra.
    Despite his best intentions, the words made him think of Megs, compelling him to pull out a photo of her. One of the ones they’d taken over the holidays almost two years ago when Christopher had left her with him. To torture him. Which him was debatable since Johnnie knew walking away from her had been one of the hardest things Christopher had ever done.
    Tasting the beer again, he held it in his mouth a bit, then refocused on Megs as he swallowed. She’d been in a red lace dress, her gorgeous legs made longer by her sexy-as-fuck heels. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, though. She’d looked…lost. Much like Johnnie felt right now.
    As the song ended and another one began, he passed a thumb over Megs’s photo, smiling at her. The only girl to interest him since Megan, scampered in and out his life with no rhyme or reason, running out of the club, several hours ago, before he’d had a chance to get her alone.
    Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the headboard and scratched his chest. He hated that he couldn’t get past Megan. As with everything else in his life, he went all the way. No half-assing for him, ever. When he loved, he went the full Monty. When he killed, he now did it with no regrets. And when he kept secrets? He did it with the knowledge of holding everyone’s happiness—maybe the continued existence of the MC—in the palm of his hands.
    Sometimes, key moments in his life flashed in his head and he’d remember how he came to be at this point in his life. The memories evoked a variety of reactions from him. Sometimes, nostalgia. Sometimes, laughter. Sometimes, anger. And every now and then grief that his perception of who he was had been so brutally stripped away.
    Unfortunately, for him, almost all his memories centered around not only him, but Christopher, too. It was one of the most fucked up things within a bevy of fucked up things between the two of them. Because Johnnie knew what he was good at and running this fucking club wasn’t it. That was Christopher’s thing and if the club fell apart because of the constant cloud of one man, then all the secrets Johnnie had kept would be for naught.
    One man. How could one man wield so much fucking power and he wasn’t even fucking around?
    But Logan Donovan…tension dropped into Johnnie and his muscles bunched. He refused to think of Logan with the same determination he pushed away thoughts of Sebastian Caldwell and Joseph Foy. Though he might’ve more than succeeded in paying as much attention to Cee Cee’s former existence as he would a pile of horse shit, he wasn’t as lucky with Big Joe and Logan.
    Rubbing his eyes, Johnnie wondered if Little Man was asleep. It amazed him how a club of big, bad-ass bikers catered to a baby . Of course, Christopher couldn’t wait to take his son on a motorcycle. He was already searching for earplugs…that he’d more than likely never use. Megs would kill Christopher if he took their son for a ride on Little Man’s first birthday.
    On the other hand, all Christopher had to do was get her in bed and wring ten orgasms from her, and she’d be putty in the man’s hands. The sour thought made Johnnie’s brow crease. He didn’t like the envy surging up in him. Envy that had nothing to do with the way he felt about Megan. No. It was more the thought of wanting what Christopher had—his own family who loved him without condition.
    Johnnie wanted a wife and a child, too, a woman he could confide in. He wanted to erase… everything ….connected to him . No, them. Because, if he compared his grandfather and his father to one