Meggie #2
Her lower lip trembled, but she glared at Mort. “I adore him. That doesn’t give him the right to scream at me when I only wanted to comfort him. Receive c-comfort in return.”
“I understand.”
“If you’re asking me to cry, don’t. Please.”
“Meggie—”
“I’ve cried, Mortician. I’ve cried for my sons. For my daughters. I’ve cried because Christopher is an idiot and I’ve cried because your brother doesn’t think I’m worth anything. Especially not respect. It hurts.”
“You hurt. I know. I swear I do.” He was hurt too. Over Digger, Harley, and Bailey. But this wasn’t about him. “Other than stepping back and letting you fight your own battles, Prez still over-the-fucking-top with you. No matter what he say, he’s afraid to lose you.”
“So he pushes me away.”
“Meggie, listen to me, baby. You his everything. How you think he feeling knowing one of his sons almost took you from him? The entire situation fucking with him, but that? That’s about to drive him insane.”
Meggie frowned. “He wants me to gain a hundred fifty pounds and have surgery to lengthen my legs.”
He couldn’t stop the laughter exploding from him.
Giggles finally erupted from Meggie, and she laughed so hard, she began to cry. Mort wrapped his arms around her and she leaned against his chest, sobbing.
“It isn’t enough that you’re all touchy-feely with my wife, you have to put your hands all over Christopher’s wife.” Johnnie’s crisp voice swept over Mortician as he walked in from the mudroom. “Guess you need some female tenderness, since your woman no longer wants you.”
Meggie hadn’t seen Johnnie since his hospital visit a couple days before her release.
Win for her. Unfortunately, he’d walked in today amid another of her low points.
The jerk wasn’t happy without spouting hate and negativity.
But she wouldn’t allow Mortician to lower himself to Johnnie’s standards.
The moment Mortician released her and jumped to his feet, Meggie stood and inserted herself between them.
Before she ordered Johnnie to leave, Christopher’s voice came from the other door. “Either of you motherfuckers throw a punch and hit Megan, you both gettin’ shot,” he said, producing his .9mm and aiming it at Johnnie.
“To what do I owe the displeasure of your presence, Johnnie?” she demanded, folding her arms.
Christopher narrowed his eyes. “You been cryin’, baby?”
“I’ll explain later,” she said, ignoring the hope in his voice. “Right now, I want to know why you’re here, Johnnie.”
“I was invited. I’m still a member of the family and of the club.”
“I was at the club and asked him to come, Meggie,” Digger said, breezing in from the mudroom as if he owned the place. As if he hadn’t betrayed her, Christopher, Bunny, and Mortician.
Out of her peripheral vision, Meggie saw him grab the cookie jaw.
“Where my butter cookies?”
In hell where he belonged. “I didn’t order more,” she said.
“You said you needed to talk to me and you don’t got my cookies?”
“What the fuck you need to talk to this motherfucker for, baby?” Christopher asked, shoving his gun in his cut.
Meggie gritted her teeth. To save his life on behalf of Bunny and Mortician, she should’ve specified the need for secrecy, though Digger wouldn’t appreciate her efforts. “It’s about an idea I had for…for…”
Crap.
Christopher walked around the island, glanced at Kaia, frowned at Bishop’s chef hat, then came to Meggie. He stopped inches from her and she drank in his solid presence. She hadn’t been so close to him in days.
He tipped her chin up and studied her face. “Why you cryin’?”
For so many reasons.
One of Jo’s lungs was congested. The doctor assured Meggie her baby was receiving the best possible care. She was afraid to tell Christopher, afraid he’d blame her for that, too. Or make good on his threat to give Jo away.
She was also so very worried about Rule, but of course, it went back to how he felt about her, which was also why she’d scheduled her hysterectomy.
April 3rd, a surgery she still hadn’t told Christopher about.
And one that she still didn’t really want.
But no one thought she deserved to know about her son’s jump or the rectory fire.
She’d give them the benefit of the doubt.
Perhaps, if she hadn’t locked herself away, especially from her husband, he would admit the truth.
Then there was Digger. When she saw the huge withdrawal and recalled leaving Digger in her office while she saw to one of her kids.
Digger stole from the joint account Christopher opened and set up for the household, to pay Bunny, utilities, and to fund dinners, parties, and vacations. In essence, Digger stole from Christopher. Knowledge she couldn’t bring herself to tell Mortician. He had enough to worry about.
Christopher brushed his lips over hers. She’d missed him so much.
She swallowed, missing him so much, and looked into his green eyes.
In their depths she saw sadness, but her Christopher, too.
The man she loved completely and who loved her just as much.
He was in there somewhere. She just had to coax him back into the light.
She smiled gently. “I need to talk to Digger about Bunny.”
“You would know more about her than me, since she barely say two fucking words to me,” Digger said.
“Outlaw,” Val said, breezing in also through the mudroom. “I–”
At his gasp, Christopher turned.
Val gaped at Bishop and pointed to his head. “What the fuck you wearing?”
“A chef’s hat,” Bishop answered. “To make my position official.”
Before the conversation deviated any further, Meggie pasted a smile on her face and pointed to Johnnie’s bandaged hand. He was a good place to recalibrate her attitude.
“How’s your hand healing?”
Christopher and the guys exchanged surprised glances.
“You knew I shot this motherfucker’s fingers off, baby?” Christopher asked, lifting his brow.
“Indeed, she did.” Johnnie smirked at her. “Would you like to tell him your response, Megan?”
She shrugged. “It’s club business. I have no opinion on it.”
“You know that isn’t what you said.”
Rubbing her chin, Meggie pretended to think.
“Hmmm. What could it have been…oh! I remember. If he’d shoot away your stupid tongue, he’d do me a great favor.
Thanks for the reminder.” She smiled at Christopher, pretending not to notice the pain in his eyes and wishing Johnnie’s tongue was gone.
“You know I wasn’t serious. I was just a little annoyed. ”
“He could’ve killed me!” Johnnie snapped.
“Then behave and you’ll survive,” she retorted, stepping around Christopher, and ignoring how they were all staring at her.
“Hey, Mom,” CJ greeted from behind her.
Val winced and Christopher shifted.
“What happened to you, kid?”
Mortician’s question prompted Meggie to turn and look at her son. His chin was bruised and a little swollen, and his eyes were red, as if he’d been crying.
Panic rushed through her and she hurried to him, grabbing his hands. “What’s the matter?”
Tugging his hands away, he backed up and studied his boots. “I’m just tired, Mom.”
No, that wasn’t it. Only deep pain brought on the type of look on CJ’s face. Christopher didn’t seem concerned, while Val looked at CJ with sympathy.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Club business,” Johnnie responded with idiotic glee. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”
Hatred blazed in CJ’s eyes as he looked at Johnnie. “You’ve gotten your wish, uncle. Rory will lead the club when the time comes.”
Over her dead body. “Excuse me?”
“CJ disobeyed me, Megan,” Christopher said cautiously. “He refused my direct order. Ever since his overdose, I been noticin’ he ain’t cut out for club life. This just proved it.”
She thought about this morning, when Christopher insisted CJ go to school, when for days, he hadn’t cared one way or the other. She wanted her son to graduate, so she hadn’t questioned her husband’s sudden change of heart and backed him up.
“What was the order?”
He hesitated. “Beat up Rory.”
“Beat up…have you lost your mind?”
“Nope,” Christopher said without remorse. “Rory lied to me about a letter Hopper sent. It’s about Bash and you.”
“It had to do with Randolph,” Johnnie cut in.
“Where’s the letter?” Meggie asked.
“Johnnie tore it the fuck up,” Christopher said, explaining the situation and CJ’s part. “Rory shouldna brought it to Johnnie. He shoulda came to me. He ain’t told me the truth.”
CJ’s gaze beseeched her to understand. “It wasn’t my fight, Mom.”
“Tell him, Megan,” Johnnie gloated, pointing to Christopher. “Tell him how wrong he was.”
She looked from CJ to Christopher, both struggling to find solid ground, to remember joy and laughter.
Bonds beyond the club and common ground within.
“You mad, baby?”
“I’m right, aren’t I, Mom?”
“Tell your husband he wanted to abuse my son, Megan.”
“I can see both Outlaw and CJ side, even if Ryan would never suffer such a moral dilemma, Meggie.”
“What you say, Meggie girl? We all want to know your verdict. CJ especially. It might ease him.”
“Or fuck him up more, Mort. Since you don’t have my cookies, you got something else to eat?”
Comments and questions flew at her and, even though Kaia and Bishop remained silent, they all stared at her, waiting.
“Do you want to be a part of the club, CJ?”
“You know I do, Mom,” he said, his voice trembling. “For as long as I can remember.”
Right. An obvious answer to an equally obvious question. She hit him with another one, so his disobedience sank in. “Did you enjoy shutting me out when your daddy said it was club business?”
“Of course not, but I couldn’t disobey—”
“Finish it, CJ,” she instructed in a hard tone.
“Mom–”
“Finish. It.”
CJ shifted, looked at Christopher, Mortician, Val, Johnnie, and finally her, before hanging his head. “I couldn’t disobey my president.”
“Why did you do it this time, son?”
“Are you shitting me?” Johnnie fumed. “What kind of question is that, Megan? The reason is crystal clear. Rory was innocent.”