Chapter Twenty-Seven—Kendall #3
Closing his eyes, Johnnie mumbled, “fuck!” and blew out a heavy breath. He hadn’t meant to say all that he had, but his temper had gotten the best of him.
“Johnnie—” she started, panic slamming into her.
“What fuckin’ club business?” Christopher interrupted with the look of a man already on the verge of an explosion who’d just received more unwelcomed news. Or discovered a stupid motherfucker was operating behind his back.
“Answer me, Johnnie,” Christopher said, burning with scorn and cold with fury, two polar emotions converging into a frightening visage. “Ima give you to fuckin’ three. What fuckin’ club business? One…”
Rory’s nervous laughter drew everyone’s attention and stopped the countdown. “N-nothing, Uncle Christopher. Dad didn’t mean anything.”
Kendall swallowed her rising nausea.
“Ro, this isn’t our fight.”
CJ’s words as he waved Rory over to the chair next to him broke through to Christopher.
Kendall gave her nephew a grateful smile.
“But this is my dad, C.,” Rory countered. “That makes it my fight.”
“Not if it’s club business,” CJ argued.
Christopher snapped his brows together.
“Club business or family business, my dad is always my dad,” Rory argued.
Johnnie slammed his hand down on the table. “Now I’m your dad, you little motherfucker?” he sneered, glaring at Rory.
“You’re always my dad,” Rory said with indignation. “I can’t help it if you’re also a fucking jackass.”
Kendall squeaked.
Breathing heavily, Johnnie got to his feet, unaware of Christopher’s avid scrutiny. While anyone else would need an explanation, he would figure it out with just a moment of contemplation.
“I called this meeting!” Kendall inserted, attempting to save Johnnie from whatever. Stupid motherfucker. “Let me talk.”
“Stand in front of me and call me a jackass, Rory,” Johnnie ordered, ignoring her and balling his hands at his sides.
As if he intended to lay his hands on her son.
Heedless of the danger, Rory stalked to Johnnie and planted himself inches away.
Stiffening, Johnnie lifted his fist.
“Motherfucker, you touch my son and you’ll be missing that goddamn hand,” Kendall warned, afraid for her son and her husband. “I will fucking kill you or anyone who touch my children.”
Johnnie scowled but raised his hands in supplication and stood down.
“What club business are you and Rory keeping to yourselves?” she demanded. “Club business that can get you fucking killed, you fucking asshole.”
“It’s nothing,” Johnnie barked, looking at her without a shred of friendliness. “Get the fuck out, Kendall. You’re not a club member.”
“Neither is Rory,” she argued.
His smile vicious, he looked at her pointedly. “He’s wanted here.”
That crushed her, but she lifted her chin, aware of Mortician’s encouraging smile.
“You’re a motherfucker to say that to her,” Rory said, low.
“Fuck you,” Johnnie spat, throwing a punch that would’ve landed on Rory’s jaw if Christopher hadn’t moved like lightning and took the hit meant for Rory. He grunted.
“Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up, Johnnie. Rory, take your seat. We talkin’ after this meetin’.”
“The fuck my son is talking to you, Christopher!”
Christopher waited until Rory sat next to CJ before he said, “Kendall asked to meet with us, Johnnie. You lettin’ her fuckin’ talk or you get the fuck out.”
Johnnie swept her with a furious glower. “Maybe, I should move back to the club. You don’t need me when you have Christopher to defend you.”
Kendall refused to break down in front of that jealous fuckhead.
“Move to fucking hell, bastard,” she snarled, her voice thick and wet.
At home, she’d have a good cry, then stiffen her spine and forge on.
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re a miserable motherfucker and you’re trying to drag me down with you. ”
“Kendall—”
“Oh, please shut the fuck up,” she cried, swiping at an angry tear. “I’m so fucking sick of you. You think because you still want to fuck Meggie, I want to sleep with Christopher. Grow up, motherfucker. People evolve. Everyone except you. Now, shut up.”
Someone said the eyes were the mirror to a man’s soul. Meanness and hatred reflected in Johnnie’s eyes.
“Talk, Kendall,” Christopher ordered.
“I intend to meet Bash,” she announced, yanking the bandage off and getting straight to the point.
“Fuck you! Fuck no!” Johnnie stormed. “Are you fucking insane? You can’t meet that motherfucking madman.”
“No, Mom,” Rory said. “Bash is scary. You…no…”
Studying her, Christopher swigged from his bottle again. Kendall wished she had something else to drink. He swung his gaze to Mortician. He must’ve seen her glance in Mort’s direction.
“I refuse to allow you to go,” Johnnie said.
“She tellin’ us so we can go with her, Johnnie,” Christopher said. “Shut the fuck up or get the fuck out.”
“Why you want to put yourself in danger like that, Kendall?” Val asked.
“Where do you want to meet him?” Stretch demanded.
“You…this isn’t a good idea,” Diesel said.
No, it wasn’t, but she needed to discover the truth some way since pulling records and sitting on her ass reading letters wasn’t cutting it.
All the secrets—a girl that might be Johnnie’s daughter, the fact that Meggie supposedly owned the club, and all the family connections–needed light shed on them.
They, she, needed the real story.
“Ken…Aunt Kendall?”
“What, Ryan?” Kendall said tiredly.
“Bash…” He transferred an uneasy glance from Christopher to Val and finally to Kendall. “Bash is insane. You’ll put yourself in danger. Don’t go.”
“There’s a missing link,” she said quietly. “He might have it. Someone does…”
Rory threw accusing eyes toward Johnnie.
She didn’t look away fast enough. Christopher followed her gaze and growled.
“Johnnie, what the fuck you hidin’? Tell me now!
” When he didn’t threaten Johnnie with bodily harm, Kendall wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.
Sometimes, the words worked, and Johnnie fell into line.
If nothing else, it stopped Christopher from picking up his gun and blowing her husband away.
“If you know something, tell us,” Kendall begged. “Please. I love you so much. Please, don’t…please help me.”
He glanced from Christopher to her, his eyes glacial. “Will you drop the fucking case and go back to being my wife, instead of Christopher’s partner?”
Jumping to his feet, Christopher unholstered his .9mm and pointed it at Johnnie. “I would fuckin’ think by now you fuckin’ tired of gettin’ fucked up. I’m tired of wastin’ my bullets with warnin’ wounds. Hear me? Now, fuckin’ talk.”
Johnnie smirked. “I don’t have anything to say.”
“It wasn’t my dad, Uncle Christopher,” Rory blurted. “It was me. He hasn’t been watching Mom, and Bash is lurking. I-I did…I do, so I went to her office and stole a letter. It was…it was from a girl named Hopper.”
Christopher didn’t lower his weapon. “What the fuck about Hopper?”
All Kendall’s years of loving Johnnie, of hating him, crying over him and laughing with him, flashed through her head.
“Her son needed money and took documents Big Joe left with her to Bash,” Rory whispered, shaking.
Kendall ran to him and wrapped him in her arms, hugging him tightly. Wanting to protect him from the world. This life. His father. “It’s okay, son.”
He returned her hug. “It isn’t, Mom!” he sobbed. “It isn’t all right. Hopper left a number, but I don’t remember it.”
“Where’s the letter, Ro?” CJ pushed out, ill-prepared for the adult world of club politics he was so insistent on entering. “Get it and bring it to my dad.”
“I-I t-t-tore it up,” Rory said faintly.
Shaking her head, Kendall closed her eyes and held her son tighter.
If that was possible. She could barely breathe at Rory’s lie.
He’d helped her sort out all the documents, so it was unlikely he’d receive a letter about Bash and then tear it up.
Instead of going to her or Christopher–or even CJ–he probably brought it to Johnnie, and that motherfucker tore it up.
The report of a gun momentarily deafened her. Her scream blended with Johnnie’s. She spun around and saw a bloody mess, formerly known as Johnnie’s index and middle fingers.
“Rory ain’t did a motherfuckin’ thing to that motherfuckin’ letter, assfuck,” Christopher snarled. “You fucked that letter up.”
“Uncle Christopher—”
At Rory’s cry, Christopher barreled toward him, but Kendall jerked her son behind her.
“Wrap Johnnie’s hand,” she cried, her eyes still ringing. “Please! He can bleed out.”
“Fuck him,” Christopher barked, unfazed by Johnnie’s moans and Rory’s sobs.
She grabbed Christopher’s arms. “Please,” she begged, tears pouring down her cheeks. “Please, please, please. Don’t let him die! Please.”
Growling, Christopher nodded to Stretch and pried her fingers from his arms.
“I’ll see to him, Kendall,” Stretch promised, jumping to his feet and rushing to a storage closet. “Fuck, it’s empty!”
CJ took off his shirt and held it out to Stretch, which he quickly wrapped around Johnnie’s hand. Mortician fashioned a tourniquet from Ryan’s boot lace and tied it around the bloody material.
Once Johnnie was seen to, Christopher reached around Kendall and snatched her son.
“Listen up, Rory,” he said, his voice sounding like it was from the depths of hell.
“You fuckin’ knew that was club fuckin’ business.
You knew what me and your ma workin’ on.
Yet, you hid that from both of us and took it to motherfuckin’ Johnnie.
You disobeyed a fuckin’ direct order. You barred from the club for a month. ”
“What?” Rory cried, panicked. “No, please! I’m sorry.”
“Johnnie’s the adult, fuckhead,” Kendall spat, determined to protect her son but still wanting to save that fuckface, idiot, brainless fucking twat known as her husband. “Don’t you fucking dare put that burden on my son’s shoulders.”
“You want me to kill this motherfucker, Kendall?” Christopher indicated Johnnie with his gun, ready and willing to pull the trigger with a fatal shot.