Chapter Thirty-Eight—Meggie
Showing Kaia around the house exhausted Meggie and took longer than expected thanks to her crutches.
One benefit of Christopher strong-arming the physician and hospital administrators into keeping Meggie and Rebel for so many days was they were both physically stronger.
An orthopedic boot had replaced Meggie’s ankle cast and most of her bruises were gone, though she still wore a cast on her hand.
Still she stopped several times during the tour because she hadn’t had a lot of physical activity in recent days, but she wanted Kaia set up as soon as possible before Christopher scared him off.
She never appreciated the size of the house until she had to walk through the entirety of it in one go. Though she avoided the natatorium, she pointed it out as they passed by.
Kaia asked pertinent questions and kept a steady conversation. He was surprisingly intelligent, far removed from his godawful poetry.
From her hospital bed, she’d set up his debit account and deposited money. Although the contract Kendall drew up wasn’t yet signed, Meggie withdrew the card from her pocket at the end of her tour, along with a door key.
“Talk to Christopher about using one of the spare cars at the club. One of us will buzz you in and out of our gate.”
She’d learned her lesson and trusted very few new people with the security codes.
She wished she could revoke the privileges of others without them ending up dead, but if she told Christopher to change their security code and Johnnie or Digger—for argument’s sake—shouldn’t have the new information, he’d deem them a threat to her.
Kaia seemed a little overwhelmed, so she didn’t linger once she showed him to his quarters. After, she ignored her pain, and headed to Rebel’s room to check on her, finding her daughter curled up on her bed.
“Reb?”
She didn’t turn. “Do you think Rule misses me, Momma?”
“I don’t know, love,” Meggie said softly.
“I miss him.”
“I know. I do, too.”
Meggie took a step toward the bed, so she could hug Rebel. Comfort her in some kind of way.
“I’m tired,” Rebel said, still not facing her. “I want to rest.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll check on you a little later. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Hurting for her daughter and wishing she could take her pain away, Meggie gripped the banister and slowly ascended the stairs to the third floor. CJ’s door was closed. She raised her hand to knock.
Lowering her hand, Meggie backed away from CJ’s door and continued to her bedroom.
Immediately, she knew Christopher wasn’t there.
She didn’t feel his presence. Suspecting his location, she limped to the back staircase, which had been added years after the original build, because the house was endless and the main staircase now seemed so far away.
On the second floor, she headed to Rule’s room, hating the oppressive silence. Bunny insisted on taking Gunner.
Axel, Ransom, and Ryder were home, but the house still felt empty and overwhelmingly lonely. Rule wasn’t there. When someone left under the best circumstances, there was an adjustment.
She pushed open Rule’s half-open door and found Christopher nursing a bottle of rum, sitting on their son’s bed, his back against the headboard.
Meggie crawled on the other side of the bed and leaned her head against his shoulder.
He didn’t hug her back. He’d walked into her hospital room furious, and swept her with a look of accusation.
But she was home. They could properly hash out their—her—failure of Rule and comfort each other.
“You were right, Christopher.”
He snorted. Sipped his drink.
“What do you want me to say?”
“What the fuck can you say, Megan? What can I say?”
“That you listened to me and I miscalculated. I didn’t think Rule was so—”
“You was too fucking busy worryin’ about who CJ might be fuckin’ and gettin’ Rebel on birth control.” He moved away from her and got to his feet. “It almost cost you and her your fuckin’ lives.”
“I’m so, so sorry, Christopher.”
“You failed him, Megan.”
“I didn’t mean to. I—”
“You fuckin’ what? You here all the fuckin’ time. You saw signs more than me. You the one who told me. What the fuck you did? Allowed him to have more fuckin’ bibles.”
“He wants to be a priest. I thought I was supporting him.”
“How many fuckin’ bibles one fuckin’ kid need?”
“He bought his own with his allowance. I didn’t want to discourage him.”
Christopher threw his bottle against the wall, spattering liquor and glass. Covering her head, Meggie screamed. Dragging her up, he shook her, then dropped her back on the mattress.
“He ain’t fit to be a motherfuckin’ priest,” he roared. “He take the worst fuckin’ passages and twist them the fuck around.” He started pacing, pointing at her, accusation burning in his gaze. “You ain’t give a fuck, huh, baby? He was a motherfuckin’ burden to you, so you ignored him.”
“That isn’t true!”
He snatched one of Rule’s bibles from his desk and flung it. “At least be fuckin’ honest. You was fuckin’ determined to wait. You said it would be easier on Rule and the kids. No, it was easier on you.”
“You could’ve overruled me,” she cried. “You’re his father. You had authority.”
“I fuckin’ left it up to you.”
“I was dealing with so much.”
“Most of it a figment of your motherfuckin’ irrational jealousy and goddamn stupidity. You know I ain’t cheatin’ on you. I could have a naked bitch on my fuckin’ lap, grindin’ her wet pussy and she ain’t gettin’ dick from me. No, Megan, that did happened.”
With Kendall. “I love you,” Meggie sobbed, banishing the thought. “I would be so lost—”
“Shut the fuck up. I ain’t leavin’ you. Our marriage end, it’s cuz you want it to end. All those motherfuckin’ tears and mopin’ and anger blinded you to Rule.”
“But I was recovering from Jo’s birth and…and…and…dealing with Johnnie…and the possibility of a hysterectomy and Torie…” Her lips trembled; she winced.
“Yeah, wince, Megan. All that shit except Johnnie on you. No, even that motherfucker on you, since you ain’t told me what the fuck he was doin’.”
“I wanted to protect—”
“My fuckin’ soul. That motherfucker. Every motherfuckin’ thing except Rule. Do you know how the fuck it felt walkin’ in this fuckin’ house knowin’ Rule not here?”
“O-off-kilter.” She swiped at her tears. “Like the world is upside down.”
“It’s oppressive. Like a part of me missin’,” he responded, glaring at her. “It’s fuckin’ heavy. It mocks me. I knew Rule was fucked up. You knew it, too.”
“Christopher—”
“Shut the fuck up, Megan,” he said again.
“I’m so motherfuckin’ tired of almost losin’ you.
The night it happened, I ain’t thought about nothin’ else but how grateful I was you and Rebel survived.
” He turned in a circle and indicated Rule’s abandoned room—bed hastily made, dirty socks on the floor, an open bible on his desk.
“Now, tofuckinday, and bullshit…” He glowered at her.
“It fuckin’ hit me all the fuck over again.
What we coulda done. Shoulda done. We treated him the same fuckin’ way Big Joe treated Snake. ”
She’d heard all about her father’s disregard for his son. “That isn’t true!”
“The fuck it ain’t,” Christopher countered. “And it turned out almost the same motherfuckin’ way. With death.”
Meggie swiped at her tears. “You wanted to kill Rule. Our son. You can’t possibly blame that on me. Nor can you blame Jo on me. I didn’t make her alone.”
“Somehow, you always turn up with my kid in you, so yeah, it’s your motherfuckin’ fault, Megan.
You made me love you and can’t get enough of you.
You made me make you my fuckin’ world, and you do fuck all to protect yourself so you can stay with me.
Especially against gettin’ lil’ motherfuckers in you.
It’s your goddamn pussy. You know what the fuck you need to do. ”
“Just what are we talking about here, Christopher?” Meggie demanded. “My pregnancies have nothing to do with Rule. I can also remind you of the two or three time you insisted I get pregnant.”
“That don’t count. I wanted you pregnant for your fuckin’ safety to keep you from rival clubs. You want to be pregnant cuz you like babies. And, yeah, this got to do with Rule. You almost dyin’ givin’ birth to Jo is what fucked him up.”
Hurt and angry that he laid all their problems at her feet, Meggie picked up one of Rule’s pillows, rose on her knees, and threw it at Christopher. “I can blame you for a few things, too, jackass,” she cried.
Growling, Christopher picked up Rule’s desk chair and threw it against the wall. Meggie’s scream combined with her tears. She sounded like a wounded animal. “Ain’t givin’ a good fuck, Megan. Don’t take away the fact that we failed Rule, you and Rebel almost died, and it’s your motherfuckin’ fault.”
“How’s it Mom’s fault?” Ransom asked from the doorway. All the crashes and screams must’ve drawn him out.
Meggie hadn’t even heard his footsteps, so lost in her argument with her husband. It made her feel guiltier because that was the problem. No matter how much she claimed otherwise, Johnnie was right: Christopher always came first. Then CJ. And then Rebel.
It was a crapshoot for her other kids.
Shame and misery permeated her soul. Gut wrenching sobs tore from her.
“Momma?” Rebel said as Ransom ran to her and hugged her. She clung to him.
“Mom, what’s the matter?” CJ asked.
“Aunt Meggie?”
“Did Dad spank you, too, Mom?” Axel’s little voice carried through her despair. “Told you that motherfucker wield a belt like nobody else.”
“Who else has beat you with a belt, stupid?” Ryder demanded.
“I’m not stupid,” Axel yelled. “Your mama’s stupid.”
“We got the same mama, dickface,” Ryder said in exasperation.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Mom.”
“I’m sad too, Mom,” Ransom admitted, patting her back.
Meggie nodded and tugged herself out of his arms. She sniffled, then cupped Ransom’s cheek. “I know, my love.” He looked exhausted and as if he’d lost weight. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”