Chapter Eight –Christopher #4
“Johnnie think he love himself, but that only come with knowin’ who the fuck you are, acceptin’ what you like, and changin’ what the fuck you don’t.
And I love, Kendall, cuz Megan taught me how to love.
She said I can kill whoever the fuck I wanna as long as they not on her list. I’m so fuckin’ happy, I want to dance in the fuckin’ street.
A motherfucker makin’ death lists and choosin’ the gun, knife, scalpel, and nail lifters to fit the fuckin’ crime not a good motherfucker.
To her, I’m everyfuckinthing and that’s all that matter to me. ”
Kendall nodded.
“As my partner in this and a club attorney, what do you think I should do about Bash?”
At first, Kendall didn’t react. She drew her brows together. Then, his words registered and she widened her eyes.
“I’m a club attorney again?” she whispered.
“As long as you want to be. Diesel still don’t have enough experience—” Or fucking sense, but what the fuck ever.
He still wanted him as a partner. “And Brooks a faintin’ pussy.
You the club’s lead attorney from now until you give up the position.
I trust you. Hear me? You smart and you fuckin’ tough. ”
She seemed to sit a little taller. “Thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I do cuz you still a busy bitch and fuckin’ nosy.”
Her smile was genuine, the first real one since he’d arrived, then she heaved in a breath.
“I want Diesel as a partner,” he announced, changing the subject because he needed to leave and get to Megan.
“Is me being the club’s lead attorney based on that?”
“Nope.”
“Then my answer is fuck no.”
“Megan want that for him, too,” Christopher said.
She gnashed her teeth together. “Equity or non-equity?”
“Why the fuck we want him as partner if he ain’t takin’ a share in the fuckin’ profits?”
“Nepotism much?” she grouched.
“Ain’t givin’ a good fuck what kinda ‘ism’ it is. Just fuckin’ do it.”
“What about a junior partner?” Kendall suggested.
“Diesel tells me all the fuckin’ time about his cases. He has more wins than losses. He tells me about the meetins between Brooks, you, and him. He says you both give him high fuckin’ praise for his sharpness. Is he fuckin’ lyin’?”
“I wish I could say that he was, but he is brilliant,” she conceded. “He’d go far in a big, high-profile firm.”
“So what the fuck’s the problem? He interned under you.”
“Then he started having his dick sucked every day by the Bobs,” she snapped. “I’m sure he was a manwhore before then. That just sealed the fucking deal, starting him on his road to sex addiction. Then he met Tabitha and he just turned into an all-around motherfucker.”
“You talkin’ about nepotism with me. You sound like you keepin’ him at the firm just cuz he family.”
“Nope, if he was shit at his job, he wouldn’t be here.
When Meggie asked me to consider him, I told her he’d have to prove himself if he wanted to stay beyond six months.
He’d just passed the fucking bar. Neither Brooks nor I wanted another attorney on staff.
She knew we had the final say over Diesel’s future here. ”
Christopher gave her a sour look and explained why they wanted Diesel in as a partner.
“Fuck, I never thought of that,” Kendall admitted. “Fine. I’ll draw up the goddamn papers.”
“Good, I’ll transfer the fuckin’ money.”
“You’re buying his partnership?”
Christopher nodded.
“Why didn’t you fucking say that in the first place?”
“One, you ain’t fuckin’ asked. Two, I wanted to fuckin’ know if you’d do it on merit alone. I got my fuckin’ answer.”
“Fine. You win. Now, I need a favor from you.”
“What?” Christopher asked warily.
“You need to talk to Mortician and find out what Johnnie told Bailey.” It was her turn to explain another fucking situation involving motherfucking, fuckhead, assfuck Johnnie.
“And since you mentioned DNA tests, I think everyone should have them so I can figure out who’s related to who.
Almost all of you have two sets of birth certificates.
I need to untangle this. I’m going to join several genealogy sites and–”
“How that got to do with who own the club?”
“Aren’t I the attorney?” she said crisply, swiping the last of her tears away, back on her game. “I’m advising those moves.”
“You can fuckin’ advise ‘til you fuckin’ green. Answer my fuckin’ question. Relationships are periphery to the main concern.”
“Talk to Bash,” she insisted “You’ll see why I think the club’s ownership is no longer so important.”
Celia was searching for a way to save Bash, too. Now, Kendall seemed to have joined that club. “Fuck, fine. Set up the fuckin’ meetin’ . I’ll call the fuckin’ lab and tell them to prepare…how many fuckin’ kits? And just what the fuck you lookin’ for?”
“For starters, I want to see if Meggie and Bailey are first cousins.”
“Come fuckin’ again.”
“K-P and Big Joe might’ve been half-brothers.
Actually, it’s more of a probability than a possibility.
If Bash and Celia agree, I’ll have them swabbed, too.
Suppose you and Johnnie aren’t half-brothers?
You and Bash have sense. Johnnie doesn’t.
What about you, Mortician, Digger, and Johnnie? How are you all actually related?”
“Have Easton, Tio, and Cleaner swabbed, too,” Christopher instructed. “Might as well try to figure it all out. I wish we could get one of those Bart motherfuckers.”
“Me, too. I’ll ask Bash. He might help me.”
Before Christopher responded, someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Kendall called.
Mortician stuck his head in. “I can hang in the waiting room until your meeting over,” he said to no one in particular.
Christopher and Kendall stood. She rushed around her desk, smiling happily, and hurried to Mortician.
“What are you doing here? Can I finally file divorce papers? You’ve come to your senses since Bailey’s lost hers and don’t seem interested in finding them?”
Chuckling, Mortician embraced Kendall. “Don’t never change, Red,” he told her as she returned his hug.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again, stepping out of his arms.
“I texted the motherfucker to come spend time with you,” Christopher told her. “I got to get home to fuck my woman but I ain’t wanted you to be alone.”
“I thought maybe we could go for a ride,” Mortician said.
Kendall’s face fell and she glanced down at herself.
Christopher followed her line of vision, surprised to see that she wore cream-colored trousers and cashmere sweater. Judging by her height, she probably also wore three- or four-inch heels.
“Not only am I not properly dressed, I’m not wearing my contacts.”
“Then, I guess we got to stop at the mall first, since it’s closer than the club,” Mortician said, shocking the fuck out of Christopher.
“Brooks in his office. Why don’t you and him take your Navigator to the mall while I wait here until somebody bring your contacts?
Brooks can drive your car back to the office and I’ll pick you up from the mall. ”
“I like the way you think,” Kendall said happily.
“I’ll tell Johnnie that someone is coming to the house because I’m no longer in the mood for my glasses.
” She indicated herself with her hand. “Besides, they don’t go with this outfit.
” Grinning, she kissed Mortician’s cheek.
“We can also get stuff for a picnic at the new gourmet grocery store.”
A pained expression crossed Mortician’s face. “How fucking much you making me spend to cheer you up?”
“As much as it takes,” she said breezily.
He glared at her and she poked him.
“Give me your card and I’ll buy everything. You won’t know the cost until you get the bill.”
“Only woman I hand my fucking credit cards over to is Bailey. Roxanne too at one time.”
“You’re right,” Kendall said, sighing. “How about I run home and change?”
Mortician gritted his teeth and Christopher smirked, enjoying the fuck out of himself.
“Here,” Mortician said, fishing his wallet out of his cut and handing Kendall two cards. “Use one card for a jacket, shirt, jeans, socks, and boots, and the other one for whatever the fuck you want for the picnic. Distributing the cost won’t hurt my fucking heart so much.”
“Do I have a spending limit?”
Christopher snickered.
“As long as you act like you got fucking sense, no,” Mortician bit out.
“I won’t spend over five thousand dollars.”
Mortician choked, but before he asked her what the fuck she intended to buy—at least that’s what Christopher would’ve asked her—she hugged him again.
“Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.
Johnnie hasn’t given me his credit card to buy myself anything in years.
I have my own and make my own money, but it would be nice if he at least offered sometimes.
” Another kiss to Mortician’s cheek. “Thank you.” She turned to Christopher.
“And thank you for calling him and talking to me.”
Christopher nodded, clapped Mort on the back, and left him alone to keel over from stingy motherfuckery.