Chapter Thirty-Three - CJ
Almost an hour and a half after Aunt Bailey arrived, Rebel and Mattie sandwiched Harley between them as they sat at a table in the conference room. Mom, Aunt Kendall, and Lolly were seated across from the girls, while Dad sat at his usual spot at the head.
When CJ called Lolly and explained the situation, she arrived not long after and sent Aunt Bailey home with Knox, promising she’d explain everything to Uncle Mort later. Because, of course, Dad, Uncle Mort, Uncle Val, and Uncle Stretch couldn’t have arrived after Aunt Bailey was already gone.
Rebel wanted to poison Uncle Johnnie. She said she could make his death look like natural causes and do humanity a great favor.
CJ overruled her and made her promise not to kill him.
She maintained they were no longer protecting Aunt Kendall.
They were outright lying to her and she deserved better than that.
They had more uses for their goodwill and family loyalty than to keep a motherfucker alive who wasn’t good or trustworthy.
Rebel was right, but they’d had enough crises for the week. They didn’t need to add in Uncle Johnnie’s death.
Lolly knew the full story. She told everyone the bare minimum—Bailey was upset over her conversation with Johnnie. Apparently, this was the second time that motherfucker struck and sent Aunt Bailey into a spiral.
CJ would at least tell Mom and Dad the truth before Rebel lost her shit and told Diesel to carry out the plans she’d given her word she wouldn’t do.
“Ready, Outlaw,” Uncle Stretch finally said.
Dad looked at Harley, her misery compounded by her mother’s meltdown. “Baby, if this too much for you—”
“I don’t want anyone to hate me.”
“Mort?” Dad asked.
Clenching his jaw, Uncle Mort shrugged. He looked as if he’d aged fifty years in the span of twenty minutes. Mom rubbed his back since he sat between her and Aunt Kendall. “Roxanne—”
“Harley, we all love you so much,” Lolly started, when Uncle Mort couldn’t finish. “We support you no matter what you decide. You don’t have to do this.”
“Nardo could’ve left his phone anywhere,” Harley said. “The only way Uncle Stretch can get an accurate ping is if he’s talking on it while they get his location.”
“If this is too much for you—” Dad repeated.
“I’m scared, Uncle Christopher.”
“Baby, if the motherfucker nearby, we going snatch him,” Uncle Val promised. “We’ll get his fucking phone and wipe all the videos he got of you.”
“And get Willard and Wallace Bart’s last known location based on what I find from their messages to Nardo,” Uncle Stretch said.
“I’ll call him,” Harley said and yanked her cell phone from her pocket so fast, it slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor.
Instead of picking it up, she bowed her head.
“Harley, baby, you got nothing to be shame for, ever. You a Banks. An Andrews.” Uncle Mort nodded to Lolly. “A Doucette. Don’t let no motherfucker ever make you bow your head. Understand me?”
CJ almost wished Mattie hadn’t picked up the phone and set it in front of Harley.
Immediately, she dialed a number and pressed the ‘speakerphone’ icon.
“Harley!” Nardo answered.
Sucking in a breath, Harley disconnected.
“Where he at, Stretch?” Uncle Mort asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
Harley’s phone started ringing again and she jerked.
“You don’t have to—”
“Hey, Nardo,” Harley said, ignoring Uncle Stretch, a far away look in her eyes.
Rebel took the phone from Harley and put it on speakerphone again.
“Harley!” Nardo’s scream grated on CJ. “You…I should let the whole fucking school get the video of you playing with your fucking pussy. You humiliated me and disrespected my daddy. We want a hundred Gs by tonight. You bring it. I’m going to fucking use you like a whore deserves—”
When Uncle Mort growled and swiped the phone off the table, CJ stomped it, envisioning Nardo’s face every time he brought his foot down.
Since Lolly was texting, Mom pushed back from the table, jumped to her feet, and rushed to Harley. “Come on, love,” she said gently.
“Take Harley to my place, baby,” Lolly said, then looked at Aunt Kendall. “I’ll check on you and Mattie later, sugar.”
Mom, Aunt Kendall, Harley, Mattie, and Rebel trooped out, but Lolly stayed put, her jaw clamped.
“Nardo’s in Oakland,” Uncle Stretch announced.
Uncle Mort pounded his fist on the table.
“That’s ten fucking hours away. Harley got her play tonight.
Even if I went straight there, didn’t run into no traffic or road closures or any fucking bullshit, shot the fuck out of those motherfuckers, and turned the fuck around, that’d still be twenty fucking hours. ”
“We ride out immediately after the play, Mort,” Dad said. “We might be late gettin’ back for Diesel’s birthday party, but he got other motherfuckers who’ll be on time.”
“Where is Diesel?” CJ hadn’t seen him in hours.
“Him and Ryan went for a ride,” Dad said.
Uncle Val choked.
“You wanted to see me, Roxanne?” Uncle Johnnie strolled into the conference room as if he hadn’t fucked with everyone and made Aunt Bailey have a breakdown. He smiled at CJ. “Nephew.”
CJ glowered at him.
“People,” Uncle Johnnie continued.
“What the fuck you want with him, Roxanne?” Uncle Mort said.
Lolly set her purse aside, gripping something in her hand and standing. Once she reached Uncle Johnnie, she snapped a fucking collapsible baton into place and swung that motherfucker with such force, Uncle Johnnie toppled the fuck over.
She swung and she swung and she swung, following him as he crawled underneath one of the tables and kicking him.
“Come out like the motherfucker you are and face me, motherfucker.”
“What did Kendall say I did?”
She kicked, connecting with some part of Uncle Johnnie because he screamed, though CJ didn’t know which part since that motherfucker was out of sight.
“Kendall?” Lolly snarled. “I got to fucking beat you for her too?”
“No!” Uncle Johnnie cried. Like literally cried.
“Stop pretending, motherfucker.”
“I’m sorry!”
“If you ever fucking look at Bailey, if you ever breathe in her fucking direction, I’m not only beating you and shooting you, but I’m carving you the fuck up.”
“I hear you.”
“Good.” She stepped back. “Now, come on out.”
Sniffling, Uncle Johnnie crawled from under the table. The moment he did, she cracked him across the back of his head and knocked him the fuck out.
“Give me my purse, Mortician,” she ordered.
Looking at her warily, Uncle Mort snatched her purse but didn’t walk to her.
“Did you do any fucking thing I need to beat your fucking ass for, boy?” she demanded.
He shook his head. “This from the last time or this over something new?”
“This from the last time and the next fucking time,” Lolly answered. “A bitch always getting into shit. Now, bring me my fucking purse.”
“Fuck, man,” Uncle Mort said, stomping to her and holding it out.
She jerked it from him, collapsed her baton, and sailed out.
“Dad, you don’t have anything to say?” CJ asked, wondering why his father wasn’t even questioning what was going on. He didn’t think Lolly had a chance to tell him anything. “Uncle Johnnie’s unconscious on the fucking floor.”
“Yeah, boy,” Dad said. “He’ll live.”
“Roxanne graduated from a broomstick to a real ass beater,” Uncle Val said.
“Looks fuckin’ like it,” Dad said, and lit a cigarette. “I’m just glad she didn’t have that motherfucker when she beat my ass.”