Chapter Four - Christopher
“I’m depending on you not to let us repeat that fuck-up from this morning, Dad,” Axel said, later that evening, just as Christopher sat at one of the tables in his mancave.
It was the first family get-together in weeks. Everyone except Bailey attended, which Mort and his kids seemed fine with. They didn’t miss her, so Christopher didn’t give a fuck.
Bishop had cooked a delicious meal of chicken burritos made up of corn, rice, chicken, tomatoes, lettuce, and a spicy chipotle sauce.
To appease Christopher, he had a side of crunchy fries with nacho seasoning and to satisfy Megan—fuck, all the girls—he served sauteed vegetables and a Mexican salad with lime dressing.
Now the meal was done, and the women and their daughters went to the den while Christopher and his boys and their sons converged there. Even Cash and Digger’s broken asses were there. Johnnie, too. After dinner, he excused himself and returned with a gift bag and a smug look.
Smugger, cuz when wasn’t that motherfucker not smug?
“What happened cannot happen again, Dad,” Axel persisted.
“It’s all good, boy,” Christopher told Axel, since the little motherfucker didn’t intend to leave without a response.
“It isn’t,” Axel insisted. “Mom was annoyed that you opened your big fucking mouth and said we could stay home.”
“You belong to Outlaw too, kid,” Val said, accepting a beer from Diesel. He was helping Bishop to prepare everyone’s drink orders.
“What time are we leaving to scoop up Nardo, Uncle Mort?” CJ asked.
“This a school night, CJ,” Christopher said.
CJ shrugged. “Mom’ll understand.”
“No, Mom won’t,” Axel cried. “Don’t make her mad.”
“How about you go to school tomorrow, little dude?” Mortician suggested. “I had something to take care of today, so I couldn’t scope them out. Before we move, I want eyes on those motherfuckers to make sure we don’t get no surprises.”
“What did you have to take care of today, Dad?” Lou called.
“It was nothing, son,” Mort said, glowering at Johnnie.
That motherfucker smirked. “Griffin Cox called me today.”
“Derby’s kid?” Christopher asked, lifting his brows.
“Someone paid our new contract fee to have a non-member moved to our unit,” Johnnie piped in.
“Yeah, my dad,” Ryan said proudly. “Five mil. To move Molly.”
Johnnie chuckled. “I never though you were naive, Ryan. Is Val even worth five million dollars?”
“Dad, c’mon,” Rory chided.
Val’s face flamed and he looked so fucking ashamed. “That’s my kid, Johnnie,” he whispered. “I get you mad cuz I chose Outlaw’s side.”
Val didn’t pay a motherfucking cent. Mort coughed up whatever fee they were referring to so Ryan wouldn’t look at Val differently while also saving CJ and Ryan from backtracking. Not only was Ryan a guilty fuckhead but a jealous one.
“I have a funny story for you, Ryan,” Johnnie started.
“Motherfucker, you open your goddamn mouth and embarrass Val in front of his boy, I’m tellin’ Megan what the fuck you did so Mort had to pay,” Christopher warned, low.
Maybe he should anyway and finally get this assfuck off her No-Kill List. “We all know that’ll kick off bullshit between the boys.
And the one fuckin’ thing gettin’ you dead quick is fuckin’ with CJ. ”
Johnnie snapped his mouth shut.
“I’ll give you your fuckin’ money back, Mort,” Christopher said.
“No, Prez. It’s okay. We family. Besides, this important to Harley. She want to make amends to how she acted toward Molly.” Mort leaned over and clapped Val on the back. “I got you, son. Don’t even fucking worry about it.”
“I can’t repay you, Mort.”
“I’m not asking you, Val.”
“You’d ask me,” Digger grouched.
Mortician cut his eyes at his brother as a burst of laughter floated from where CJ, Ryan, Grant, Rory, and Devon were playing pool, acting like not only family, but friends. Just as it should be.
Seeing that eased Christopher’s anger toward Ryan. He’d confessed and regretted what he’d done. Besides, CJ forgave Rory and Ryan for their coverup. Life could finally get back to normal.
Molly had been found. Bash revealed what he actually wanted.
Jo was coming home soon. Tabitha would be kicked to the fucking curb.
Cash and Digger got their beatdowns. Motherfuckers were healing, hopefully with their fucking brain back where the fuck it belonged.
Christopher had gotten control of his club again.
He had his license to kill, amended but what the fuck ever.
And Megan had forgiven him and still loved him.
For now, all he had to do was kill Easton, look forward to a birthday or two, Harley’s play, and sealing the peace agreement before he took Megan away to celebrate their anniversary.
Fuck yeah, there were loose ends. For instance, Johnnie needed to die.
Or, maybe, Roxanne needed to beat his ass.
Rebel needed her cast off. She needed to jump back in the saddle and get back in a swimming pool, go to the natatorium and face the scene of the crime, or both.
Kendall needed to meet Jana. Johnnie needed to accept Jana.
Ned and Nardo would die tonight or tomorrow. Rule would heal and return home. CJ would focus on school again. Axel would settle down and realize his ma wouldn’t leave again, especially if she were pregnant. He’d stop fucking claiming he was building a goddamn bomb.
Shit. Diesel might have to die, too. Christopher wasn’t sure yet. Speaking of that motherfucker, he wanted to ask him why he’d gone to Brookings. When he’d seen the tracking information, he wondered what brought him there this time. The haunted look he’d seen on Diesel’s face worried Christopher.
Yeah, he might have to kill the motherfucker because of Rebel, but he was still his son, family, and he loved him. He’d regret killing him and miss him terribly, but he either behaved or fucking died.
That would be another fucked up addition to their twisted family tree. Another thing Christopher needed to do was resolve the issue of who begot who. Because there was a lot of begotting and begetting.
Fuck, there was also Molly. She’d need extensive treatment and support. He also wanted to introduce Celia to the rest of the family. Maybe Bash, too. He wasn’t too fucking sure yet.
Double fuck. He had to drop Kaia from the side of a cliff. He also needed to get Bishop the fuck out of the house and away from Rebel.
Megan said not to interfere with Rebel dating.
Christopher would do that and fucking more.
He just wouldn’t let Megan know he was blocking motherfuckers from their girl.
When she turned eighteen, he’d choose a guy for her.
Someone who would listen to him and not her.
All the fuckheads currently identified, three–Kaia, Bishop, and motherfucking Diesel–would cave the minute she lost her fucking temper.
Or smiled at them. Or, fuck her, flirted with them.
“Prez, you okay?” Mort asked.
“Fuckin’ fine,” Christopher snapped.
Val frowned. “Then why you fucking look like you ready to kill us all?”
“I’m just fuckin’ thinkin’ about all the shit I gotta do before me and Megan leave,” he growled. It was the partial truth. “A fuckin’ lot.”
“When don’t you have a lot to do, Christopher?” Johnnie asked.
Fuckhead was right, but this was bullshit. How the fuck had solving some problems created a fuckton more?
“I want to fuckin’ focus on my woman and celebratin’ our anniversary,” he said irritably. “One fuck up can jeopardize our trip.”
“Prioritize, Uncle Christopher,” Diesel suggested. “See to the most urgent matters and then push everything else aside until after you get back.”
Christopher nodded. “Ain’t got a fuckin’ choice but to do that. Besides, the shit not really life and death.” Not his or Megan’s, anyfuckingway. “Shit smoothin’ over, so I’ll fuckin’ think about all this shit some other time.”
“Good,” Knox called. “Now, can I have a drink?”
“Beer or wine?” Bishop asked.
“Nothing so pedestrian for me.”
Knox, Mr. Fuckhead Sadity Mitty, wanted a Pegu Club, a drink first created a hundred goddamn years ago at the club it was named for. “Gin, lemon juice, lime juice, simple syrup, heavy cream, orange flower water, egg white, and soda water.”
Christopher didn’t blame Diesel’s aggravation and look of death as Knox listed the ingredients.
CJ dragged on his cigarette and leaned against the pool table. “Does Mom even have orange flower water, Pop?”
Ransom and Ryder joined JJ, Lou, Kaleb, Mark JB, and all the other assorted little motherfuckers on the sectional that sat right in front of the rarely used, big-screened TV.
“We helped her save some of her deliveries.” Ryder looked up from his cellphone long enough to impart that. “We didn’t see any of that stuff, Pop.”
“She doesn’t,” Ransom said with certainty, leaning over to see what was on Ryder’s screen and smiling at whatever he saw.
“She should. I sent her a list of what I needed for the drinks I’d like to try.
” Knox took his phone from his jacket pocket and tapped the screen.
Windchimes filled the air a moment later.
“Ah, yes. She said everything except the egg, cream, and gin are in the cabinet under the bar.” Another text came through and he grinned broadly.
“The coupe glasses the drink must be served in are in the dish room.”
Axel glared at Knox, then looked at Christopher. “Should I or should you, Dad?”
Taking a drag of his cigarette and releasing the smoke, Christopher pretended to think, then nodded. “Go ahead, boy.”
Saluting Christopher, Axel marched to Knox and tapped his back, interrupting the motherfucker’s speculation on where eggs and cream might be. As if those motherfuckers could be anywhere except a goddamn refrigerator.
That’s why Christopher allowed Axel to fuck with Knox. He couldn’t be fucking bothered.
“Uncle Knox?” Axel called because Knox ignored his first attempt to catch his attention.
“One second, please.”