Chapter Eighteen – Mortician #2
“I love my sons, but he’s in Christopher’s crosshairs.
Yet he…it doesn’t…Eliza Bart…Fuck, I’m victim blaming my own son.
I’m sorry. That’s so unfair of me.” She hugged Harley again.
“I believe you. He’d never hurt a girl.” She laughed nervously.
“Now, I have to apologize to him and admit…he’s going to think I’ve lost my fucking mind. ”
“He loves you,” Harley told her.
Those words took away some of Zoann’s bleakness. She smiled and kissed Harley’s cheek. “I’ve overstayed my welcome. I’m going to miss you so much, baby.”
“I won’t be able to hang out with you, Aunt Zoann?”
Harley sounded truly disappointed while Bailey looked like she would go into fits.
“Of course! Anytime.”
“Can I text you later, Auntie?”
Zoann grinned. “Borrowing CJ’s name for me?”
“Yeah.” Harley’s giggle warmed Mort’s heart. “Just don’t tell him.”
Winking at her, Zoann made the motion of zipping her lips. “Never!” She turned to Mortician and hugged him. “Thank you for allowing the intrusion.”
“We family. You never intrude.”
“You’re so full of shit,” she said with a laugh. “I was the last person you wanted to see when I walked out of the house.”
“It was that obvious, huh?”
“It was. But no apology is necessary. You made time for me and welcomed me into your home.”
She kissed his cheek and left without a glance in Bailey’s direction.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she snapped, the minute Zoann closed the door and turned to Harley. “Please bring me your cell phone, hunny bunny.”
“But why?”
“You need rest, Harley. A cell phone will interfere with that.”
“But—”
“Now.”
“I’ve been texting Mattie since you told me I couldn’t spend the day with her and Rebel at Aunt Meggie’s.”
“Absolutely not. Once I consult with attorneys, I can’t say that you’ve been spending time with one of the defendants.”
Harley frowned. “What did Rebel do?”
“You don’t mean Reb, huh, Bailey?” Mort asked. “You mean CJ.”
“He saw the fucking photos, too. If Ryan truly wanted to help Harley, he should’ve come to you himself. No, those boys wanted to humiliate my baby.”
“That isn’t true, Mommie!”
“You’re too young to know about these things, baby,” Bailey said.
“Harley, baby, go to your room. Let me and your mama talk for a minute.”
“Daddy, CJ can’t get in trouble for trying to help me! Please.”
“Let me walk you to the staircase, baby girl,” Mortician said, not giving either one of them a chance to speak again. He guided his daughter down the hall by her elbow and halted at the staircase. “Did you really give Ryan permission to take those fucking photos?”
Harley’s nostrils flared and tears filled the eye not swollen shut. “No,” she whispered.
“Was it a video?”
“I don’t…” She sniffled. “Maybe. But please don’t confront him. Please, Daddy. I swear it isn’t what you think.”
“Anytime Outlaw won’t let me fuck up Johnnie, I know he won’t allow me to fucking break Ryan in two.”
“Ryan isn’t the bad guy and neither is CJ.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“I want to move back and sleep on the sofa now that you home, baby girl.” Mortician drew in a painful breath. “But if you prefer Zoann, I’ll ask if you can go back to the log cabin.”
“Will Mommie let you come back home?”
Probably not, especially after they talked. “Maybe.”
Harley gave him a skeptical look.
“We’ll see.”
“Has no one ever thought about building two or three houses for emergency use on club grounds?”
“A fucking oversight,” Mort grumbled.
“Definitely.”
“Go upstairs.”
“Do I have to bring Mommie my cell phone?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Okay, Daddy. If you can stay, I will. Otherwise, I do want to go back to Aunt Zoann.”
Fuck, he wanted to move there, too. Val and his woman were preferable to motherfucking Bailey.
Mort watched his baby girl make her way upstairs. The moment her door closed, he turned on his heel and stormed to the kitchen, where Bailey had retreated to.
She sat at the table in tears. “Go ahead. Blame me. I know you’re thinking that I’m the one who overruled you and let Harley go to Nardo in the first place.”
“Aren’t you?” Mortician barked, ignoring her crying. “You wallowing in goddamn guilt so you want to act like a raging bitch. You’ve lost your motherfucking mind telling Prez sister you calling the fucking cops. You want me fucking killed,” he yelled.
“I don’t!”
Mortician slammed his hand against a cabinet door. “You want me something, Bailey. You think I wanted to be right about that motherfucker—”
“Dad?” Lou called, rushing in with Kaleb.
For once, Mortician ignored his boys. At one time, him and Bailey rarely argued. When they did, they kept it private and away from their children. Maybe that’s why Harley never learned fucking conflict resolution.
“Not only do you want to get Ryan arrested, but CJ? CJ! Christopher Joseph Foy Caldwell. Outlaw son. Meggie son. Wrap that around your motherfucking head then help me to.”
“He deserves to be arrested more than Ryan.”
“You want to fucking die too, right, Bailey? You so fucking guilty that you didn’t think my opinion was worth a motherfucking cent, that you want Meggie to have Diesel slit your fucking throat?”
Bailey covered her face and sobbed.
“Fuck you. Look at me, goddamn it. Look at me and tell me what the fuck is wrong with you. Because I fucking swear, Bailey, if I walk out that fucking door, I’m filing for divorce. Fuck you.”
“Lucas—”
“Daddy?” Harley whispered, her eyes wide.
“Dad, stop!”
Instead of calling out to him like Bailey, Harley, and Lou, Kaleb merely stared at him, his eyes teary.
“I love you,” Bailey said in a small voice. “I love our kids. But I’m so ashamed. I want to make someone pay.”
“And you think CJ and Ryan it?” Mortician asked incredulously. “You want Outlaw son, CJ, to pay for your fuckedupness? You want Meggie…That’s her potato. She will watch you get fucked up if you fuck over her son like that.”
“Of course you’re protecting CJ, but what about Ryan? What’s your excuse for choosing him over Harley?”
“I don’t like that little motherfucker at fucking all, but he don’t deserve to go to fucking jail, Bailey. In case you fucking forgot, he Outlaw nephew.”
“Look at our baby girl, Lucas?” she ordered, waving a hand in Harley’s direction. “She’s battered, bruised, devastated, and humiliated. You can’t find Nardo? Fine. Fuck him. Ryan and CJ are here! They need to pay.”
Mortician kicked the dishwater, not caring that he dented the door.
“Even if they fucking did something, if you called the fucking cops, brought heat to the fucking club, I would pay. What the fuck don’t you understand about that?
Why can’t you get that through your thick fucking skull?
Stop fucking with Meggie. That can only end one fucking way. With me cut up and buried.”
“But—”
“Goddamn it,” he roared. “There’s no fucking buts, Bailey. None. Club code rules, and club code don’t involve fucking cops and lawyers.”
“The club has attorneys,” Bailey cried as the doorbell rang.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Mortician leaned on the counter, hoping to control himself before Lou answered. He didn’t want his voice to carry.
“Harls!” Axel cried, seconds later, running to her and hugging her as Ryder and Ransom followed him in.
Mortician had forgotten the kid was on his way.
“I wanted to check on you and I couldn’t afford flowers, so I found this for you.” Axel held up a pinecone.
“Now isn’t the time,” Bailey said stiffly. “Please leave.”
Mortician was so fucking exhausted. He didn’t even have it in him to agree or disagree with Bailey’s decree. If she wanted him fucking killed, he was through trying to convince her that she played a dangerous fucking game.
“Hey, Aunt Bailey,” Axel greeted once Harley took the pinecone.
“Leave,” Bailey said again.
“We can go up to my room,” Harley offered.
“No!” Bailey screeched. “This is trespassing.”
“Fuck, Bailey,” Mort said tiredly as Axel ran to Ryder and Ransom and whispered to them.
“Leave now, boys,” Bailey ordered. “We were in the middle of a family discussion.”
Axel marched back to Bailey. “My men tell me trespassing means I’m here without your permission.”
“Little dude—”
“Shhhh, I got this, Uncle Mort,” Axel said.
“Quiet!” Bailey declared. “You’re disrespecting Lucas with your bullshit.”
Axel stiffened. “I am not! Take that back, Aunt Bailey.”
“You’re just proving my point. You’re as disrespectful as your asshole of a big brother.”
Ryder lifted his dark blond brows. “You’re calling CJ an asshole?”
“He’s that and more,” Bailey spat. “He deserves whatever he gets for being a motherfucker.”
“CJ is too nice, so shut up, stupid,” Axel said.
“Hey, little dude,” Mortician said sternly. “Enough.”
Bailey slid out of her seat and pointed to the door. “Get out before I throw you out. You’re hurting my ears with your nonsense.”
“Listen to me first or I’m calling my dad,” Axel said.
That was the last fucking thing Mortician wanted.
Bailey smirked at Axel. “He’ll agree—”
“He might,” Axel said darkly. “But Mom won’t, and he’s stopped being a stupid motherfucker. That means, Aunt Bailey, Mom will have Uncle Mort killed and make you watch if CJ gets anything from you. So what will it be? Your ears or Uncle Mort’s head?”
Mort told Bailey, and warned her, and talked until he didn’t know what the fuck to say. She refused to listen to him and the little motherfucker wasn’t about to shut up. He’d taken on his daddy and won. No other motherfucker stood a fucking chance.
“You wouldn’t,” Bailey said faintly.
“You like to bet?” Axel replied.
“That’s your uncle! Harley is supposedly your friend. You’d take her father from her to have your fucking way?”
“CJ’s my brother, Aunt Bailey,” Axel said in exasperation. “But my mom is Mom. If you do something to CJ, she would be hurt ‘cause she loves him a lot. I’d kill my dad if it meant saving Mom. As much as I love Uncle Mort, he won’t survive if you make Mom cry.”