Chapter Forty-Four—Meggie
Opening the door to Kendall’s office, Meggie pasted on a smile, hoping her emotions weren’t written all over her face when it felt as if the shambles of her life laid in tiny pieces around her.
Part of the reason she stayed away from Christopher was because she missed him so much and when she happened upon him, the regret in his eyes and his hangdog expression tore her up.
She wasn’t even sure what she wanted from him.
An apology? She knew he was sorry—she knew him.
Understanding? Normally, she had to gentle him down so he’d see reason, even toward her.
A promise that all their kids would return home?
Every day she awakened fearing Jo and Gunner would be gone.
She still couldn’t believe he’d threatened to give them away so they didn’t have Meggie as a mom.
That devastated her on so many levels.
Was turning into the Hell Goddess Christopher deemed her, ruining their lives? She couldn’t imagine being his Sweet Angel again when they’d been living in hell for weeks.
No one answered her questions about Rule, at least those who answered her phone calls, which didn’t include Bailey, Diesel, and Father Wilkins.
Zoann promised to look into it. Val, Mortician, and Stretch told her to talk to Christopher.
Roxy and Jordan implored her to focus on herself and the rest of her children, although Jordan reluctantly allowed Meggie to schedule her hysterectomy.
During the day, Rebel glued herself to Meggie and seemed to look forward to their daily visits with Jo.
Rebel and Gunner were growing closer than ever before.
Kaia drove Meggie wherever she wanted to go, told her jokes, and played music.
Before and after school, the Triplets tried to cook for her when club business called Bishop away.
Ryder and Ransom prepped, while Axel did the actual cooking.
It’s probably why last night’s pasta was barely cooked, burned, and had whole stems of parsley along with a mostly raw chicken breast next to it.
Or why this morning’s scrambled eggs were both crispy and runny.
Then, there was Digger, and his betrayal, only discovered yesterday when she’d started reconciling that account for the first time in months. She’d texted that idiot earlier and told him she needed to see him. He responded with, not today.
Kendall snapped her fingers in front of Meggie’s face. Unable to do anything else, she stepped into her sister-in-law’s open arms and sobbed.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Kendall whispered a little while later, stroking Meggie’s hair. “You’re safe here. Cry in private and torch motherfuckers in public.”
Nodding, Meggie smiled, a little more in control of herself. Kendall guided Meggie to the chair in front of her desk, then sat in the one next to her. “Mattie texted me during her lunch break. She thinks Kayce likes her.”
“She told me he goes out of his way to sit with her during lunch,” Meggie responded, appreciating Kendall’s small talk as she sat her handbag on the desk.
“How’s Rebel and Kaia?”
Swiping at her still-wet cheeks, Meggie blew out an agitated breath.
“Oh, no. The plan is backfiring?”
“Not in the way you mean,” Meggie grouched. “I gave him a garment bag and told him the clothes inside needed dry-cleaning. His interpretation was pouring bleach on my things and throwing them in the clothes dryer. He said I didn’t say the cleaners.”
“Does that motherfucker not read? The words ‘dry cleaner’ are always somewhere in one of those places. On a sign. Painted on a window. Somewhere.”
“That’s the problem. He said his family never bought clothes like that and if he doesn’t use it, he doesn’t pay attention.”
“You docked his pay?”
“Unless I do it for the next two or three months, docking one time won’t cover the cost of my ruined clothes.
” Meggie shook her head. “And, more often than not, the kitchen is a wreck. He’s obsessed with sweeping.
When I questioned that, he said to trust him.
Bishop had to use a wet vac to clean up the layer of water after Kaia’s attempt at mopping. ”
Kendall and Meggie shared a look, then burst out laughing. The humor felt as good as her tears had and helped to release a little more tension.
“Thank you, Kendall,” she said finally. “I appreciate you so much. But I was thinking about a mani and pedi after I visit Jo. Gypsy has been wanting to talk to me, so I may call her.”
Not cooking for her family left her a little lost. As much as she needed the respite, she was at loose ends. Maybe, she and Bishop needed to alternate days.
“Why do you think I demanded you come to the office, honey?”
“You’ve found information about Rule.”
“I have,” she said gravely.
Alarm raced through Meggie. “What’s wrong with my son? Where is he?”
“On the day you and Rebel were released, Rule jumped out of a second-story window and broke his leg.”
“What?” Meggie cried, all her other problems falling to the wayside. “Oh my god! My poor baby, he’s going through so much, and Rebel is beside herself with worry. I have to tell Christopher—”
Kendall snorted. “I assume he knows. It’s probably why that motherfucker went insane a few hours after you arrived home.”
“Christopher…knows?” Meggie asked, recalling his fury and bitterness. His distress. “Why…why do you say you suppose he knows?”
“The facility was expensive as hell and not particularly big. Rule had been in a straitjacket and in complete darkness. The doctor in charge of Rule, one nurse, and an attendant were found, er, deceased. The authorities claimed it was a deadly love triangle.”
“Wh-why?” Meggie whispered, Diesel’s absence suddenly making sense. “Do you doubt it, I mean.”
“Do you really want to know the gory details, sweetheart?”
Aware of the results of Diesel’s retribution with Tío fired her imagination. “Not really,” she said faintly.
“Another nurse was in a car accident,” Kendall continued. “Another attendant was found drowned in his bathtub. The other doctor fell to his death from eighteen stories. On the surface, they’re accidents, Meggie. But it’s too coincidental to not have been connected to Rule.”
“Who’s your informant?”
“Freya finally called me this morning and I spoke to Father Wilkins.”
“He’s there?”
“For the time being, he’s homeless, so I suppose there is as good a place as any.”
“What do you mean he’s homeless?” Meggie demanded.
“The rectory burned down last Friday afternoon.” Anger darkened Kendall’s eyes. “None of those fuckheads told us.”
Struggling to find words, Meggie gaped at Kendall. If she looked at the priest too long, he wanted money. Other than dropping Rule off at the rectory once or twice over the last few weeks, she hadn’t been to Mass in months.
Kendall heaved in a breath. “As much as I know that news distresses you—”
Distressed? More like numb. She couldn’t even summon anger at the cover up. Christopher thought she was a terrible mother, unworthy to know about their son or stand at his side as matriarch of the family. After almost a week, no one had thought she deserved to know.
“You talked to Father Wilkins, you said?”
“Yeah, honey. The little fuckhead is alive and well.”
“Good.” Possessions were replaceable; lives were not. “As for Diesel’s reign of terror, I couldn’t give a flying fig about him killing the idiots who drove my son to jump out of a window. As long as he’s careful, I hope he makes every single one of them pay.”
Kendall searched her face, then a small smile tipped up her lips and she nodded. “My sentiments exactly.”
Grabbing her purse, Meggie got to her feet. “I need to talk to Christopher, then buy airline tickets to LA.”
“No.” Kendall stood, too. “You can’t go to Rule. You’re needed here.”
“I most certainly can and I will. Even if he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll be nearby—”
“You gave Father Wilkins temporary custody, Meggie. He has ultimate authority and he thinks it’s best we all stay away.”
Meggie stood rigidly, wanting to revoke the guardianship but knowing Christopher would never allow it.
“I need you to listen carefully to me, sweetheart.” She nodded to the chair. “Please?”
Though her insides shook, Meggie held onto her composure as best she could and returned to her seat, clutching her purse as if it were a lifeline.
Kendall sat in the chair next to her, leaned forward and grabbed her hand.
“I’m meeting with Bash Sunday or Monday.
Johnnie isn’t happy. Understatement, but when has he been happy lately?
I don’t trust him. I think he’ll tell your husband the type of woman his mother was as payback for giving my meeting the go-ahead against his wishes. ”
Meggie blinked. “The type of woman Patricia was?”
“Vile and evil,” Kendall stated, and Meggie jerked as if she’d been hit. “Your mother-in-law was as bad as Logan.”
“But—” She thought of Christopher, the esteem he held for his mom, and how discovering her marriage to Cee Cee had crushed him.
His entire world would shift if he found out she was psychotic, which was the only sufficient description for Logan Donovan.
Her hands were tied with Rule. If Christopher hadn’t said all he had to her, she could give him the benefit of the doubt and believe he’d taken his usual—albeit wholly wrong—approach to protect her.
But he needed her now. Whatever else was going on between them, she’d protect him however she could.
“I take it you have proof that Johnnie knows about?”
Kendall nodded. “Letters. A fuck load of letters.”
Sighing, Meggie scrubbed a hand over her face. “Destroying them isn’t an option, I suppose.”
“Mine are copies. I have no clue who else has a set and if Johnnie made more copies.”
“So, what can we do?” There was only one way to prevent Christopher from seeing the actual letters and holes filled Meggie’s idea. “Even if we find someone to forge new letters, copies like the ones in your possession can crop up at any time. Or, worse, the originals.”