Chapter Eleven—CJ #3
“Find a better way,” Axel said. “Diesel said Tabitha was either abused or spoiled as a child cuz she’s such a miserable cunt. Do you want your daughter to grow up to be a miserable cunt?”
“My job is to raise my son, Axel.” Uncle Cash got to his feet and dusted off the knee of his pants.
Axel cocked his head to his side. “Don’t you got sons?”
Uncle Cash had the grace to look ashamed. He nodded.
“Even if you just had one son, you still got a daughter. Dad spends time with Rebel, teaching her a lot of stuffs.”
“You wouldn’t understand. A man needs a son to carry on his name.”
“Dad says a man’s legacy is his children. He didn’t say that didn’t include Rebel. And, now, Jo,” Axel added.
“Rebel and Jo can’t join the club,” Uncle Cash said in frustration. “Fuck. You don’t understand, so I’m done trying to explain.”
“You don’t understand.” Axel swept Uncle Cash with a disgusted look.
“I’m tired of trying to get motherfuckers to listen.
But this is my first merry go-round with you, so here goes.
You can’t explain away treating Winnie different cuz she don’t got a cock.
That makes you look like a mean motherfucker and that’s going to make her grow up to be a miserable cunt.
Then what? If you won’t be senile, you’ll remember this man-to-man talk and say, I should’ve listened to Axel. ”
“Axel—”
He ignored CJ. “And you’ll be crying in a corner, cuz you don’t only wear pants. I’ve seen Aunt Ophelia in them, too. No one will care that you’re all dried up and alone cuz that’ll be exactly what you deserve.” Sweeping Uncle Cash with one last look, Axel stormed out.
CJ shrugged and followed in his wake. After all, as out of line as Axel was, he wasn’t wrong.
Outside, Axel’s fury lingered. He grumbled under his breath, calling Uncle Cash an array of names and stomping down the pathway. If he was a cartoon, smoke might’ve been coming out of his ears.
Instead of high-fiving his little brother for standing on business, CJ took on his usual mentoring role. “Y’know, bighead,” he started, opting for a light tone so he wouldn’t sound so fucking preachy, “Mom and Dad expects us to respect adults, especially the ones in our family.”
Respect wasn’t only courteous, but it minimized the bullshit.
If Axel followed in Diesel’s footsteps and became a lawyer and a biker, he’d need to treat senior members a certain way while at the bottom of the food chain. Something CJ had been reminded of a thousand times because of his many confrontations with Uncle Johnnie.
That fuckhead. Just thinking about him made his head throb a little more.
“They also expect those adults got fucking sense, which Uncle Cash don’t,” Axel shot back, forever quick with a retort. “He’s a stupid, traitorous motherfucker. I’m sure Mom and Dad would be on my side. And you can’t talk, since you always argue with Uncle Johnnie, and–”
“That’s different,” CJ interrupted, ignoring his brother’s glare.
“How? They’re both dumb fuckfaces, and traitors to Dad.”
“True, but–”
“So it’s exactly the same, stupid.” Axel huffed. “Even if I do get in trouble, Diesel is on retainer as my personal attorney.”
CJ bit back a chuckle, amusement and surprise mingling with his faint annoyance. “Since when do you pay Diesel to represent you?”
His green eyes widened. “I got to pay him?”
As intelligent as Axel was, it was easy to forget he was still a little kid, and unlike CJ, he didn’t have a mountain of expectations placed on his shoulders.
“That’s how he’s on retainer. You pay him a monthly fee for his services whenever you need him,” CJ explained.
“He didn’t tell me all that.” Axel thought for a moment. “You think he’ll accept five dollars a month? I think a dollar is too low.”
“You need to talk to him. If that’s the most you can afford.”
“I’m already ten,” he said indignantly. “Almost eleven. I get to have the same allowance as Ryder and Ransom. You think if I tell Mom I’ve donated all my money to a charity, she’ll give me more?”
CJ cocked a brow. “Have you donated any money?”
“That’s not the point. I need more money if Diesel is going to charge me five dollars a month and put me in the poorhouse.”
Laughing, CJ shook his head. “I had the same allowance as you do when I was your age, Ax, and I wasn’t in the poorhouse.”
“Because you didn’t spend your money correctly. Me, Ran, and Ry need money for our inventions and experiments.”
CJ didn’t like the sound of that. His amusement evaporated, and he suppressed a shudder, remembering the results of their previous shenanigans. First and foremost, PoopGate, a day that would live in infamy in the Caldwell household.
“What are you planning to buy now that’s so expensive?” CJ questioned, praying the answer wasn’t as nefarious as he imagined.
Stupid thing to do, because lately, none of his prayers were being answered.
“For right now, supplies for a bomb,” Axel announced, shocking CJ so much, that he stumbled. “And thanks to Uncle Cash being a stupid motherfucker, I also found my perfect test subject.”
Words failed CJ. He might’ve laughed if the seriousness of Axel’s face didn’t clue CJ in on the truth.
Fuck, preventing the explosion of their uncle became one more item on CJ’s ever growing to-do list.
How fucking lovely.