Chapter Twelve—Christopher #3
“The club won’t be the same without a Caldwell heading it,” Val said fiercely. “One of your sons. CJ.”
“What the fuck you want me to do?” Christopher roared. “I want it to be him, too. He can’t even fuckin’ focus on school like his ma want.”
Fuck, what the fuck had he said? Megan didn’t understand the importance of CJ hanging around the club. Now, he was claiming it as an excuse.
Torn and twisted inside, he gnashed his teeth together. If he hadn’t agreed with Megan and insisted CJ finish school, this would be a non-issue. His boy had been destined to lead the fucking club. Fuck school!
Maybe if Christopher hadn’t pushed CJ into football–sided with Megan afuckingain–he, they, wouldn’t be floundering. His club wouldn’t be fractured0. The members would take CJ seriously.
“At the club, CJ around a bunch of motherfuckers who just see him as my kid. I fuckin’ know I fuckin’ lose it over Megan. I can’t fuckin’ see straight if something wrong with my woman.”
Exactly the fucking problem. And she saw what the fuck she wanted to see. Usually, through an emotional lens instead of a logical one. Her coldness was an emotional response to shit she created in her motherfucking unnecessarily jealous fucking gorgeous head.
Scowling, he remembered to continue with the conversation.
“Leadin’ the club about decisions. They not always pretty and they not always fuckin’ popular.
You got to have the instinct and be stone fuckin’ cold.
CJ not that. He good and kind. Fuck, Ryan might make a better president if that lil’ motherfucker trustworthy. ”
Val’s eyes widened and he glanced away, shifted. Dropped his shoulders.
Christopher bared his teeth. “But you ain’t wantin’ him to lead, huh, Val? You know the sacrifice and the risk. Ryan just ain’t fuckin’ realizin’ you steerin’ him to RC to protect him. You want your boys at the top of the food chain, just not the top.”
“I’d never use CJ for position,” Val said faintly, guiltier than a motherfucker.
“Fuck you! I’d do the same if the situation was reversed. You ain’t hung around me for fuckin’ years without some of my ruthlessness rubbin’ off. Besides, Ryan and Devon came out your cock. I’d fuckin’ kill you if you wasn’t tryin’ to jockey for position.”
Hooking his thumbs in his belt loops, Val cleared his throat. “I, uh, that, uh, suppose Ryan and Dev didn’t want to be nothin’ but regular members? You’d still kill me?”
Digger steepled his fingers and tipped his head down. “Uh, Pr-prez. You, uh, M-Meggie…she wouldn’t appreciate you killing Val for something so insignificant.”
“Exactly!” Val blew out a breath. “That’s true. Puff wouldn’t be happy either.”
“I might have to start killin’ motherfuckers ‘til my Megan come back. Fuckin’ up one of you motherfuckers’ll get her fuckin’ attention.”
A bloody neck stump rose in his mind and he grinned.
Which would be more effective? Showing Megan Johnnie’s decapitated head or his headless body?
Probably neither. She wanted his head too.
The gore might do the trick. But she might end up in a psycho camp as well, then she’d be taken away from him anyfuckinway.
Fuckin’ CeeCee. If not for his ass, Megan wouldn’t be traumatized by the goddamn head he’d sent her. It’d force Christopher to waste the motherfuckin’ head, and show her the fucked up body.
He eyed Digger. “If she ain’t talkin’ me out of it, motherfuckers die.”
Digger’s face crumpled and sweat beaded his brow.
“CJ my nephew, Outlaw,” Val said into the silence. “I don’t value his life less than I do my boys.”
“You a lyin’ motherfucker,” Christopher snarled, angry at the fucking world and done with deceiving fuckheads. “Don’t fuckin’ placate me to lessen the fuckin’ blow. I love my nieces and nephews, but not more than my own children.”
“It’s fucked up that I’m trying to save my sons while encouraging CJ to take your place.”
Christopher sighed, soul weary, wanting Megan. Loving her. Hating her because he loved her so much. Still so fucking unreasonably angry at her. “It ain’t nothin’ but a thing, Val. We all expected my boy to follow me.”
“Outlaw, don’t give up on him,” Mortician said, always the voice of reason. “He a lot like Meggie, so I understand why you so worried, but he like you too. You got to give him a chance to find his way.”
“He need his own identity, Mort. I didn’t grow up expectin’ this to be my life. I grew up fightin’ for my place.”
“If you tell him he can’t join the club, that might break him,” Mortician said. “Especially right now.”
“Make him understand he got to go to school,” Val suggested. “Give him a chance to forge his own identity apart from the club. Away from you or Meggie. Let him follow Diesel’s path.”
“What Meggie girl say?”
“I ain’t told her yet,” Christopher admitted. “Besides I’m here and she there, so I can’t fuckin’ talk to her, can I?”
Silence followed, and Christopher scowled.
“I’m not the smartest motherfucker,” Val started, “but you, uh, you…You mad at Meggie?”
Leaning back, Christopher clenched his jaw.
“You are.” Val sounded like a fucking strangled chicken. “But why…?”
Christopher clamped his jaw tighter and a muscle ticked.
“Uh, Prez?” Mort called.
“What, Mortician?” Christopher barked.
“I’ll tell you what, Outlaw,” Val said in annoyance. “You fuck with Meggie, you fuck with us. Our bitches align with her and don’t feed us, don’t fuck us, and don’t talk to us, until you make up with her.”
“How the fuck that’s my fuckin’ fault?”
“Prez right,” Digger said with a decisive shake of his head. “It’s all Meggie ‘cause her and Prez don’t even have to fight for Bunny to do whatever Meggie say.”
Mortician thumped Digger’s shoulder. “Shut the fuck up,” he ordered, then looked at Christopher. “We undoing all the bad advice we gave you a few weeks ago.”
Surprised Mort brought that shit up, Christopher lifted a brow.
“Prez, I know what happened fucking with you,” Mortician said gravely, “and you want someone to blame. Something to blame, but Meggie not it. Even if you think she share some responsibility for Rule’s break, she sure the fuck don’t share all of it.”
“She his ma,” Christopher grouched.
“Outlaw, I’m begging you to work through this before she get home,” Mort continued. “If you come at her like the enemy, she gonna treat your fucking ass like the enemy.”
“Yeah, because she livin’ in the depths of hell, focused on stupid shit,” he yelled, pounding his fist on the desk, voicing the sentiment poisoning him.
Words flew from his mouth before he considered them.
“She actin’ like she ain’t got a fuckin’ brain.
Just stupid. When she was my sweet angel, she was more fuckin’ reasonable.
You know what? She gotta have another baby.
That’ll bring her back to me and help me to keep her safe.
That lil pain in the ass motherfucker almost got herself fucking fucked up by her son.
My son. How the fuck she always tryin’ to die on me?
How? Fuck her. It’s her fuckin’ fault. Case fuckin’ closed. ”
Glowering, Christopher folded his arms, watching Val and Digger exchange glances and Mort scratch his chin. They were staring at him like he was a fucking lunatic. As if they didn’t understand what she meant to him.
Or how hurt he was. Scared. Livid. And tired. So fucking tired. He was ready to steal Megan away and hide her from the fucking world.
“I got another suggestion, Prez,” Mort said into the silence.
“Fuck, what? Cuz you just full of those motherfuckers this evening.”
“Don’t let CJ and Rebel hear you talk about her like that,” Mort said. “They will fucking kill you.”
“They can fuckin’ try. Megan mine. She belong to me, and they wouldn’t be here without my fuckin’ ass.
Fuck them. She mine! She put every bit of gray in my fuckin’ hair.
Every goddamn wrinkle on my fuckin’ face.
Every hole in my motherfuckin’ heart. My children don’t know half of what the fuck me and their ma been through.
She mine,” he repeated as if that was in doubt, the natatorium footage replaying in his head.
Rebel floating. Megan fighting.
Rule today, sobbing and pleading.
Suddenly, Christopher wanted to weep. Or, maybe, kill.
“They better not interfuckinfere with me and my fuckin’ wife,” he raged, blaming his children as well for Megan turning on him. “Not if they know what’s good for them.
“I’ll buy some fresh white gloves for your fucking funeral,” Val growled, over his panic at Christopher’s threat and shaking his head. “You touch one of her children and Meggie will fuck you up.”
“So what? I’m a fuckin’ non-entity in my own fuckin’ house now? I’m the head of the family. They listen to me. From now on, she listenin’ to me. All of them are. From Megan and Diesel on down to Gunner and Jo.”
Val frowned. “Jo can’t even understand yet, Outlaw.”
“She will, and she’ll see Megan bein’ a sweet angel who take care of me and our kids, not a fuckin’ hell goddess who want to burn everything in her fuckin’ path and allow fuckin’ smoke and flame to fuckin’ blind her to me. End of fuckin’ story.”
“Not to change the subject, but since you brought up Diesel, I have most of the cameras installed,” Val said cautiously. “Do you want any in his room, too?”
“Nope.” He couldn’t manage anything else.
“You don’t really think he fucking around with Reb, do you, Prez?” Mortician asked.
“In his mind, she probably fuckin’ with him,” Christopher said. “If Reb did anyfuckin’thing, she don’t understand who she fuckin’ with. All Diesel will see is a body, not a fuckin’ kid. Not his lil’ sister. Not even his fuckin’ imminent death.”
“Say you see something happening between him and Reb, then what?” Val asked. “Meggie’ll let you fuck him up?”
“Probably,” Christopher said with distaste.
Digger dug into his cut, came out with a handful of M&Ms, and popped them into his mouth.
“We was young once,” he said, crunching on the candy and barely understandable because of his full mouth.
“We all fucked liked Diesel. Everywhere and everything. But we had enough sense not to fuck with underage girls. Give your son some credit, Outlaw.”
Christopher wanted to be wrong. That’s why he hadn’t fucked up Diesel yet. “We’ll see.”