misunderstoodebook by Kathryn Kelly Read Free Book Online Page A

to Mortician and remained silent. When in doubt, shut up. She’d been sent with a woeful lack of resources. She didn’t have her license, her degree or her resume.
    The three men whispered amongst themselves, the conversation lost to her tuned out senses. She yearned to escape. Yearned for the darkness.
    Mortician handing the note to Val captured Kendall’s attention. Val gave it a cursory glance before reaching over her and passing it to Digger.
    Mortician rubbed his chin, leaning against the shelf containing the alcohol and situated into the recessed wall. “Kendall, huh?”
    She nodded, meeting his gaze a task. She might’ve been quiet and she might’ve had food issues, but she’d always liked to laugh. And…and do other things. She just had to remember what they were. Forgetting the blood and the pain was more important, though. Escaping the horrible realities of her life.
    “Kendall,” he repeated. “That’s a cool name.”
    Unable to form too many coherent thoughts, she faked a smile, intrigued at how his long dreads framed his face. Noticing anything about him shamed and bewildered her. He was a man. Men had penises. And they used their penises and their hands to hurt women.
    “You don’t talk too fucking much, huh, girl?”
    She shook her head. Kendall didn’t have anything to talk about. Digger holding out the letter excused her from responding. She grabbed it and shoved it back in her bag, making a production of closing the fasteners and situating the leather on her lap.
    The door opened but Kendall didn’t turn, although Mortician glanced in that direction, then winked at her with a glint of unholy mirth in his dark eyes.
    “Yo’, John Boy,” Val called. He wasn’t as tall as the others, but when he smiled his dimples stopped her short.
    “Valentine,” Johnnie remarked, stopping at the man’s other side, close to the end of the bar.
    The sound of his voice hit Kendall’s eardrums first, then bounced around in her brain before arrowing to her belly. Right where his baby rested. She’d forgotten about the stupid weekly birth control patch the night she’d been with Johnnie. Not that that mattered. She swore he’d used condoms.
    “Look who the wind blew in,” Val continued as Mortician handed Johnnie a cold beer. The Road Captain put his arm around her, simultaneously stepping out of the way and turning her toward the man who haunted her dreams and kept her sane.
    The heat of Johnnie’s gaze burned into Kendall and she lifted her face, weighted down by all the secrets she carried. Even if she was inclined to tell him she was pregnant—which she wasn’t since she had to sacrifice her baby to continue with the illusion of everything that hadn’t happened to her—he’d never believe the baby was his.
    His gaze flickered over her hair, her eyes, her nose. Her mouth. The silver in his beautiful eyes swallowed up the gray, leaving behind a burning intensity that melted Kendall’s insides. Looking at him, smelling his cologne, hardened her nipples and wet her panties. Because he was her illusion. The man she hadn’t expected to see again but whose memories she clung to.
    “Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted with a heart-stopping smile. “What brings you back to my club?”

    Johnnie studied the woman who sat on the barstool, clutching her oversized bag like a shield, her red hair blanketing her. She wore a gray suit with a white blouse, the skirt revealing long legs that drew his eye to her thighs, clenched closed.
    She followed his line of vision and flushed. He winked at her.
    He hadn’t gotten the night he’d spent with her out of his head and often wondered what had become of her, sure there was more to her than met the eye.
    “Give John Boy your letter, Red,” Mortician ordered, turning a shit-eating grin to Johnnie. “She here for employment.”
    Her jerky movements and sallow skin filled him with unease. Something wasn’t right with her. The least of which was her showing up at