Chapter Eighteen – Mortician #3
“Yeah, whatever, child.” Rolling her eyes, Bailey returned to her seat. “Say what you have to say and then leave and never come back.”
“Remember that when Mom don’t let you cross the sill of her fucking door,” Axel said.
“I’m calling Meggie.”
“I don’t think you should. She’s probably with Dad. Besides, call her, involve him. He’d ask you if you’d lost your fucking mind, then fuck up Uncle Mort.”
“I don’t allow my boys—”
Axel waved an impatient hand. “Remind me to get a shirt when I have to talk to stupid motherfuckers. I’m Outlaw and Meggie’s son. I only listen to Mom and Dad.”
“Are you calling me out of my name, young man?”
“Are you admitting to being a stupid motherfucker, Aunt Bailey?”
“Axel, little dude, why don’t you leave right now?” Mort suggested, hoping to diffuse the situation. The kid didn’t know about Bailey. She took respect very seriously. “I’ll bring Harley later.”
“I’m almost done, Uncle Mort,” Axel said.
“No, mister. You’re done now,” Bailey screamed, losing her shit as Mort knew she would. “I don’t fucking know in whose universe you think you’re my equal or Lucas’s but let me set you straight. You are disrespecting me, our house, and him.”
“I’m not,” Axel said irritably. “I’m disrespecting you.
I don’t respect no motherfucker that don’t respect me and I’m not afraid of no motherfucker neither.
And the only person in the entire world I’d never talk back to is Mom.
Any other motherfucker will respect me, listen to me, or fucking die. Case fucking closed.”
Bailey laughed without humor. “You’re a murderer now?”
“Not yet,” Axel snarled. “Mom don’t want her babies killing no motherfuckers until we’re eighteen. CJ’s making an exception for Nardo.”
“Meggie don’t know about that, kid,” Mortician said.
Axel frowned at him. “I expect Uncle Johnnie to act brand new, Uncle Mort. Not you. Mom is the Blonde Warrior. Of course she knows.”
“And she’s okay with that?” Mort asked carefully.
“I’m very disappointed in you,” Axel said with disapproval. “Wait. How old are you?”
“I’ll be forty-seven soon.”
“You’re senile like Dad then. Damn. I was hoping you’d teach me to be an enforcer, but you probably don’t remember how to shoot.”
Mortician laughed and shook his head. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How you know so much? Meggie and Outlaw talk about that shit in front of you?”
“A man don’t give away his secrets, Uncle Mort. Between you and me, though, I think Uncle Johnnie’s not lasting too much longer. I’m real sorry about that, too.”
Mort held his opinion to himself, not wanting to upset the kid. “I understand, Axel.”
“I don’t think you do, Uncle Mort,” Ryder said, amused. “If Dad kills that motherfucker, Axel won’t be able to.”
“We have a bet,” Ransom added. “Dad or Aunt Kendall. One of them will break and that motherfucker is dead.”
Those three little motherfuckers laughed.
“My bet’s on Aunt Kendall,” Ryder said. “As long as fuckhead’s on Mom’s No Kill List, Dad won’t go after him.”
“Hopefully, he’s on it until I’m eighteen,” Axel said.
“Reb’s turning eighteen before you, Ax,” Ryder reminded him. “She won’t care. She’ll kill him because she hates him so much.”
“Nah,” Axel said, shaking his head. “She loves Mattie. She won’t take that motherfucker away from him.”
“I got a question,” Mort said, finding the Terrible Triplets quite entertaining and a welcome break from all of Bailey’s bullshit.
“You three little motherfuckers talk about death and destruction regularly?”
Smiling, Axel stuck his little chest out. “Uh huh. We talk about other stuff, too.”
“Yeah, Uncle Mort,” Ryder agreed. “At CJ’s next meeting, we’re going to suggest Joker Poker as a future source of revenue.”
“Illegal in the state of Washington,” Harley said. “You’d probably have to do pop-up casinos. Or have it set up like a Prohibition-era speakeasy. They were virtually impossible for law enforcement and the general public to get into.”
“You know about that stuff, sis?” Lou asked, enthralled.
Harley nodded.
Kaleb’s eyes rounded. “You’re so cool.”
Lighting a cigarette, Mortician leaned against the counter and enjoyed his moment of peace. Bailey was just in fucking shock and had shut the fuck up.
“I was disappointed when I heard Dad let Uncle Johnnie go looking for motherfucking Nardo and Ned,” Ransom said with distaste.
“It was for Aunt Kendall, stupid,” Axel said with exasperation. “He was crying like a fucking bitch baby and wanted to make remends.”
“Am—”
“Finish that fucking word and I’m cutting your fucking tongue out in your sleep, Ransom,” Axel warned.
“I’ll wake up and choke the fuck out of you.”
“You won’t ‘cause you’re a fraidy cat. You said Nyx haunts you. If you kill me, I will haunt you, jump in your fucking skin and make it wiggle.”
“Goddamn, Ax,” Mort said, shaking his head, the cigarette calming him as much as the banter of the younger Caldwell boys. “That’s some freaky ass shit.”
“Even as a ghost, I will demand respect, Uncle Mort,” Axel said.
“Suppose I paid you to tell me how you find out all the shit you know?” Especially about Johnnie. If he came along for the reasons Axel said, Mort would understand Outlaw’s motivations.
“Dad still owes me a thousand dollars. He probably forgot. He’s years older than you.”
“Only three years and some months.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Axel griped.
“I think Daddy and Uncle Christopher are really handsome,” Harley said.
“You’re a girl,” Axel told her. “Your eyes look at things differently ‘cause, Harls, those two motherfuckers definitely aren’t handsome.”
“You know I don’t even let CJ call me a motherfucker, little dude?” Mortician said.
“That’s CJ’s problem, Uncle Mort,” Axel said. “Not mine.”
“You have to respect club officers.”
“Uncle Johnnie number two,” Axel said crossly.
Mortician stiffened. “I take umbrage to that.”
“You don’t like it?” Axel asked to be certain.
He nodded.
“Good. ‘Cause what good is a fucking insult if you like that motherfucker?” Axel said.
Lou and Kaleb giggled until Bailey turned her I’m-about-to-beat-your-ass look on them and they shut up immediately. The woman had lost her sense-of-humor.
“Another shirt, Ax?” Ransom asked, smiling.
“Yes! This one will say I’m not eighteen so I can’t join the fucking club.”
“We thought so,” Ryder said, snickering.
Mortician glanced at the kitchen table, hoping his ashtray was there, but it was gone. He squeezed the tip of his cigarette and put it in the pocket of his cut.
“Legend!” Ransom crowed as Axel’s eyes rounded and Ryder rushed to him. “How do you do that without burning your fingertips, Uncle Mort?”
“Uncle Christopher knows how to do it, too,” Harley said.
“No way!” Axel said. “Dad is too senile to be so cool.”
“Harley right, little dude,” Mortician said, winking at his daughter. “Outlaw showed it to me years ago.” He held out his hand, palm up. “But my hands are rough. You boys have tender fingers. Wait ‘til you get a few callouses and thicker skin for protection.”
“Are you really fucking entertaining this fucking brat, Lucas?” Bailey demanded, destroying the calm that Mortician had managed to get in the boys. “I don’t allow such disrespect from my own kids. I definitely won’t allow it from that bitch’s.”
Axel gasped.
“Get the fuck out before you end up in the same fucking police cruiser as CJ when I send the cops for him.”
“You’re having CJ arrested?” Ransom asked in confusion. “And you called my mom a bitch?”
“Yes—”
“Listen up, Aunt Bailey,” Axel inserted.
“I don’t know what crazy sauce infected your fucking brain, but before you get CJ arrested, Mom will get you killed.
CJ might’ve turned into a whiny, hardheaded, jealous fuckhead, but that’s my brother and he’s her potato.
If you don’t like the fire, get the fuck out of the oil.
‘Cause not only will you get fucked up, but so will Uncle Mort. Divorce the man if you fucking hate him that much. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up to be his fucking wife. You can’t back out now ‘cause you don’t like Mom no more.
You’re lucky I love Uncle Mort and like Harley, Lou, and Kaleb.
Otherwise, I’d tell Dad you called Mom a bitch.
That would solve Uncle Mort’s problems. He’s been a sad, mopey motherfucker because you’ve turned into a miserable cunt.
The Tabitha miserableness not the one Winnie might be ‘cause Uncle Cash is a stupid mean fuckhead. Just like you. So here are my thoughts.”
“Fuck, bro, you got more?” Ryder complained. “I don’t even know if she’s listening. I think you’ve made her brain freeze in shock.”
Bailey was gaping at Axel. Fuck, Mort gaped at that little motherfucker.
“She blinked,” Axel said, nodding to her. “Her brain’s working, so listen good. Nobody feels fucking sorry for you ‘cause Harley turning into a miserable cunt is your fucking fault. You especially can’t try to hurt my brother and talk about my mom because you don’t like yourself.”
Bailey snorted. “Now you’re reaching. Who says I don’t like myself?”
Mort cocked his head to the side. Was Bailey actually engaging with Axel?
He sighed dramatically. “Does any motherfucker know about context clues?”
“Did you give me any?”
“That’s a no. That’s my next fucking shirt. Anyway,” Axel continued, “not only don’t you like yourself, you don’t like nofuckingbody no more.”
“Neither do you,” Bailey responded.
She wasn’t engaging in the way Mort first thought. She was psychoanalyzing, in child psychologist mold.
“I don’t?” Axel asked.
Bailey shook her head. “No. You don’t.”
Glancing between her and Mortician, Axel considered her words, then roared with laughter. “Nice fucking try, Aunt Bailey. You aren’t using upside down psycholology on me.”
“Er, reverse psychology,” Harley corrected.
Axel glared at her.
“You let Mattie correct you,” Harley complained.
“Aunt Kendall is nice to me,” Axel said.