Christopher #3
Swallowing, Christopher traced his finger over the photo. She was probably waiting for him and wanting to know about the video.
That fucking video…
Christopher should’ve watched it beforehand, but when Val called about Nardo and then talked about Ryan’s fascination with Logan, Christopher thought about the video. K-P had had it in his possession for a reason. Christopher hoped it was about Logan to clue Ryan in.
But, fuck, he hadn’t been prepared for what the fuck he saw and heard.
He couldn’t bring himself to leave his office. After drinking beer and shooting the shit to ease the shock, Christopher locked himself away, while everyone else left.
As he tried to process the shit, Kendall texted him the the invitation she sent to Bash. Instead of picking up the fucking phone, she’d reached out with an elaborately handwritten note. When the fuck had she learned calligraphy and why the fuck waste her fucking skills on Bash?
Christopher still wanted to bomb the fuck out of Bash, Cleaner, and every other American Scorpion, but outsmarting motherfuckers didn’t always mean outgunning them.
So far, Bash was ahead in their game.
Disgusted with himself, Christopher snatched open his drawer and pulled out his unopened bottle of tequila. He was so fucking glad he’d remembered to replace the empty one.
Uncapping the bottle, he swigged.
A knock sounded on his door. “Prez?”
After gulping more tequila, he set the bottle on the desk. “Come in.”
Mortician opened the door and walked in, then sat in a chair, dug in his cut and produced Aunt Mary. “After that fucking video, plain alcohol not cutting it.”
Christopher snickered and screwed the top back on the bottle. “Sharper fucking Logan burned into my goddamn memory.”
“What about beating and pissing on him, dressed as a motherfucking wolf? I’m still in fucking shock.” Mort lit the joint, hit it twice, the passed it to Christopher. “I don’t fucking know which one of those motherfuckers was more hypocritical. The preacher or the racist.”
Not willing to relinquish Aunt Mary, Christopher grabbed his lighter and re-lit her. “I fuckin’ hate Logan, so what your old man did was poetic fuckin’ justice to that dirty motherfucker.”
Mort stood and walked to the door, closing it. Before he sat down again, he pulled out another joint. “Figured you’d need your own, but I just wasn’t sure since you going back to the hospital.”
Christopher shrugged. “You goin’ home anytime soon?” he asked, changing the subject, not knowing what to say about Megan. “Bailey gotta miss you.”
“I wouldn’t fucking know, Outlaw. Bailey haven’t called me or responded to any of my gifts. I guess she been too fucking busy at work.”
“Maybe, she just hurt you fuckin’ moved out.”
“What the fuck she expected me to do? She still not getting it through her goddamn head how wrong she was. If she can’t understand, then it can happen again.”
They enjoyed their blunts in silence for a few minutes.
“I miss Bailey,” Mort finally admitted, and shook his head.
“And, fuck, I almost…” He glanced away and sighed.
“I almost fucked another woman. I want to make up to my wife and I feel like a mean fuckhead, but if I go back home, it’s going to be the same shit.
Bailey wanting another baby. Harley not there.
Bailey demanding Harley apologize. Bailey angry at the fucking world and blaming me for shit I didn’t do.
Looking at me like I’m fucking wrong for her bullshit. ”
“You still love Bailey?”
Setting his joint on the edge of the desk, Mort scrubbed a hand over his face and nodded. “I do. And I’m still in love with her. I just don’t like her too fucking much right now.”
“I suggest you keep your distance from that other bitch. Shit spin outta fuckin’ control faster than you realize and weeks later, you still sufferin’ the fuckin’ fallout. She one of the club girls?”
Mort shook his head. “It’s Symphony.”
“That young bitch at Tee’s?”
Mortician nodded. “I told her I’m old enough to be her daddy. Fuck, she was fucking relentless. Remorseless,” he grumbled.
“She’s gorgeous,” Christopher said, sympathizing with his friend, although he’d never come close to wanting to fuck another woman once he accepted how much Megan meant to him.
“Age ain’t nothin’ but a number. If your marriage fuckin’ over, Mort.
It ain’t. You love your wife and it don’t matter if that other woman younger, older, or the same age as her, no bitch worth the pain it’ll cause Bailey and your children.
” Rebel was convinced he’d fucked Torie.
He didn’t think she’d ever believe him, but she’d finally forgiven him, though their relationship was forever altered.
“The damage it’ll cause to their trust in you. ”
“I offered to hook Symphony up with one of the brothers,” Mort confessed. “I was thinking Bishop.”
“If that’s what you wanna do. I suggest you wait ‘til you and Bailey straight, so she don’t misconstrue nothin’.”
“I hurt Symphony’s feelings. I told her I love my wife.”
“Symphony not worried about Bailey, Mort. She want you. Chicks lookin’ in got a fuckin’ ability to home in on when shit not goin’ right.
Maybe we look like fuckin’ sad motherfuckers.
Or, maybe, we not talkin’ about our wives with the reverence we should.
But they know and become what they think we missin’.
I just knew Torie, or no other woman, could ever give me what Megan do.
No woman could ever love me with such passion and intensity and I couldn’t ever love another woman in no way. ”
“The situations different, Prez. Meggie was sick. Bailey fuckin’ misguided.”
“You was once misguided too, motherfucker. Remember that goddamn bet?”
They laughed.
“In the end our situations not so different,” Christopher continued.
“I-I don’t know my wife anymore, and I’m so fuckin’ furious with her.
My Megan would’ve understood the entire Torie situation.
My Megan wouldna…” Glowering, he snapped his mouth shut and drew in a deep breath.
“You know she want me to find another cabin for our anniversary,” he said, changing the subject again. “I told her I would one day.”
Back in familiar territory as the voice of reason instead of the receiver, Mort adjusted his position. “Her church anniversary is as important as the ceremony was, Outlaw.”
Christopher scowled. “This another example of what the fuck I’m talkin’ about. When the fuck my wife question everyfuckinthing? The way she look at everyfuckinbody now tearin’ me the fuck up. I need my Sweet Angel.”
“You might not never get that Meggie back, Prez.”
“I know,” Christopher said in a tortured voice.
“But suppose this new Megan see me as a hindrance? Suppose she tired of bein’ a wife and a ma?
My wife?” He rubbed the back of his neck and rested his elbows on the desk.
“Don’t it seem that way to you? She so caught up in bein’ the scorned wife, she ain’t payin’ attention to her family. ”
“Your woman changed a lot since we first met her. Each new version of her always better than the last and always come with surprises. The one constant thing is how much she love you. Nothing changing that, Outlaw.”
Christopher wanted to believe that. Unfortunately, her attitude told him differently.