Chapter Twenty-Seven—Kendall #4
Afraid to provoke him, she shook her head.
“Then I suggest you shut the fuck up. We both know Rory been involvin’ himself in shit.
He went with Johnnie to fuckin’ see Bash.
I didn’t put him in this predicament.” He glared at Rory.
“You want to be a member of this club? You follow rules. Johnnie break those motherfuckers repeatedly. The consequences I want to give him, I don’t cuz he family.
Your ma and you and your sister love him.
But you got a choice to make in situations like this.
You loyal to him. Or you loyal to the fuckin’ club.
” He holstered his gun. “Now, Ima ask you and I want you to be fuckin’ honest. Did Hopper mention your Aunt Megan in danger? ”
Rory heaved in a breath. Swallowed. Glanced at Johnnie, then met Christopher’s eyes and shook his head. “No, Uncle Christopher,” he croaked.
Kendall wasn’t sure if he believed her son, but he turned away.
“When you want to meet with Bash, Kendall?” Christopher demanded, ignoring the possibility of Johnnie going into shock with such a major fucking injury.
She frowned. “Uh—”
“Answer me, or I’m lettin’ him bleed to death. Cuz we all know he ain’t got the proper shit to completely staunch the flow of blood.”
“As soon as possible,” she blurted.
“I need a fuckin’ number for Hopper or Randolph. She must be usin’ a burner so I don’t track her. But, first, Ima call emergency church.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Club business. After it’s over, Ima let you know if meetin’ Bash a go or not.”
Johnnie’s eyelashes fluttered and he was losing his color, on the verge of fainting.
“Uncle Christopher—” Rory murmured.
“You get a month-long suspension or an ass beatin’. Your fuckin’ choice.”
“The beating. At least I’ll be able to come to the club.”
“You’re a grown man! You can’t beat Rory,” Kendall cried, stumbling to Johnnie and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Stay with me, Johnnie. Please.”
“I ain’t beatin’ him,” Christopher grumbled. “CJ is.”
“What?” CJ straightened. “But—”
“You his equal. He involved himself in club business.”
“I involved myself in club business, too,” CJ argued, and everyone shifted uncomfortably. “At your insistence.”
Christopher ignored CJ, his smile suddenly as vicious as Johnnie’s could be, the family ties never more evident than in that moment. “It fuckin’ mean he makin’ me treat him like a fuckin’ club member.”
“Did you hear me, Dad?” CJ demanded.
“Little dude, let it go,” Mortician said sternly.
“But Uncle Mort—”
Val got up, walked around to CJ, and put his hands on his shoulders. “Calm down, boy. Don’t give Outlaw a reason to retaliate. You might not like the outcome.”
A warning framed those words, but she couldn’t understand what.
“Uncle Val, if Rory is involved, it’s because of Uncle Johnnie.
Dad should kill him,” CJ insisted, never hiding his dislike of Johnnie since their relationship soured.
“Neither Rory nor I volunteered our services to the club. I definitely didn’t agree to beat up my fucking cousin for something that doesn’t concern me. ”
“Anything that affects the club, affects you, CJ,” Diesel said coldly. “If you don’t understand that, you don’t need to be in the fucking club.”
“Diesel right, CJ,” Christopher said, too hardened and enraged to sympathize with his son. “You ain’t motherfuckin’ volunteered but you ain’t walked the fuck away either. You can’t fuckin’ pick and choose your assignments.”
“You haven’t even told me if you’ll still let me be in the club and now suddenly you want it to be Fight Club.”
“Rory raise his goddamn hands to you while you administerin’ punishment, then he got real fuckin’ problems. So far, I ain’t barred you from comin’ the fuck around, CJ, so shut the fuck up.”
CJ glanced at all of them, even Ryan, and Kendall wished she could’ve soothed his desperation, but just like Rory’s punishment was out of her hands since her son wanted to become a Death Dweller, so too was CJ’s anguish.
“I’m not beating up Rory, Dad,” CJ announced.
Christopher’s chilling smile didn’t deter CJ. He didn’t flinch.
“He disrespected his president and disobeyed the rules.” Christopher glowered at Johnnie, unconscious now. “Sometimes, we got hard fuckin’ choices to make.”
“That’s not fair, Dad!”
“Life not fair, son. Howfuckinever, in this case, Rory chose a beatin’.”
“Prez?”
“What, Mortician?”
“Johnnie bleeding to death. We need to pack his hand.”
Christopher turned his hard look to Kendall and pointed to Johnnie.
“Talk to this motherfucker and talk to your boy. Make Rory stay the fuck outta club business if you don’t want him to have club justice.
We all fuckin’ follow club rules, includin’ the boys.
If they can’t do that, they leavin’ or they facin’ consequences. Understand?”
She nodded.
Christopher indicated Johnnie with his gun. “Take him away and see to his injuries.”
After watching Mort and Cash carry Johnnie away, Christopher left, while Val, Stretch, Digger, and Diesel got to work cleaning up the aftermath of the shooting.
Rory stared dully at the activity, as shellshocked as CJ and Ryan. “I didn’t mean to get Dad shot, Mom.” “I know, son,” Kendall whispered.
Stretch halted in cleaning the blood. “You didn’t get him shot, Rory. Johnnie got himself shot.”
“Rory’s not a club member,” CJ insisted. “Why was Dad so brutal?”
“CJ, boy, Rory chose the beating,” Val said, sending Kendall an apologetic look. “He was given two options. His ass kicked or being barred from the club for a month.”
“But, Uncle Val–”
“Goddamn it, CJ!” Diesel glared at CJ, drawn from his tasks.
“Take your fucking balls in hand and do what the fuck you’re told to do.
Personally, I’d bar Rory from the fucking club.
If he’s willing to take a beatdown that means he’ll see not being allowed to visit the club as the greater punishment. ”
CJ stiffened. “Fuck you! Why did he want me to punch Rory for something Uncle Johnnie did?”
Diesel snorted and threw aside a wad of bloodstained napkins dripping with a cleaning product. “You’re fucking kidding, aren’t you, little brother? Uncle Christopher thinks Johnnie’s a traitor and sees anyone who helps him as one.”
When Rory gasped as if that just dawned on him, CJ and Ryan led him to the other side of the room and whispered to him.
“Kendall?”
Biting down on her lip to hold in a sob, Kendall sniffled. “Yes, Val?”
“Remember the last time you asked all us motherfuckers to meet you because you had something to say?”
She nodded. Johnnie got shot that time, too.
“Maybe, it’s time you fucking stopped inviting us motherfuckers to the club ‘cause you have some big fucking announcement,” Digger grouched.
The first bit of good advice he’d had in a while. Undoubtedly, a third such encounter would be Johnnie’s final.