Christopher #2
“We talked about this already, love,” Meggie said gently. “But I can see how much this is bothering you.”
“I know you’re about to suggest therapy, but I couldn’t talk to anyone about…about…” Her cheeks flushed. “M-masturbating,” she whispered, turning bright red. “I’ve stopped doing that. I won’t ever do it again.”
“Once you open that door, it is hard to close it, sweetheart. You’re young and healthy.”
“I know all the boys think I’m gross.”
“All the boys are idiots. They shouldn’t have seen the videos,” Meggie snapped, then heaved in a breath. “That’s their problem. Not yours. Ryan violated your privacy.”
“I forgave him. Forgive him.”
Another heave to calm her temper. Meggie couldn’t act immature when her daughter was taking the high road. “So do I, love. Or I’m on the road to it. For your aunt Zoann.”
“Yeah, and I’d started accepting Ryan as my cousin. He was still a dickhead, but kind of cool.”
“I understand.”
“What time are we leaving?”
“Tonight.”
“I told you we needed our own plane. Last minute flights will be a lot of money.”
Meggie smiled. “I’ll worry about logistics. You pack. Not too much. Make sure to bring a few empty suitcases.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll call you when breakfast is ready,” Meggie said, and guided her daughter out of her bedroom.
Christopher wasn’t sure what he expected when he walked into the club. Maybe motherfuckers still partying with the Bobs, drinks flowing and pool and poker going on. Maybe an orgy wrapping up, evidence of a cake fight, chunks of vomit, maybe droplets of blood from a random fight.
He was right about the bitches. Tauriel, Tennysee, Heidi, Yarrow, Kearney, Cara, and Cricket were there, half-dressed.
What the fuck he didn’t expect was motherfucking Diesel at the motherfucking bar with motherfucking red fucking eyes that needed to be plucked the fuck out of his stupid fucking head.
He didn’t expect Narci to see Christopher walking in and his sly expression change into yellow-bellied motherfuckery while Torrin gulped, looking a little like spoiled fucking meat.
And Christopher certainly didn’t expect motherfucking Jana to stumble into the main room, still half high and fucking naked.
If that wasn’t fuckery enough, that motherfucking entrance door opening took the goddamn cake: Kaia guiding Fia into the clubhouse with that cunt snuggled close to him.
“I can explain,” Kaia said the moment his eyes fell on Christopher.
The sound of his voice must’ve drawn Fia back to fucking earth because she squeaked.
“What the fuck you wanna explain?” Christopher demanded. “Why that cunt hangin’ on you or why the fuck you still dressed like a fuckin’ asshole?”
“I like Kaia’s suit,” Jana muttered. “He wears it well.”
Diesel glanced at Jana, then turned to Kaia and threw him a hateful look, not giving a fuck that his fiancée was showing her pussy to everyone there. Luckily, it was only a few motherfuckers.
“Get the fuck back where the fuck you came from, Jana, and cover your cunt,” he snarled. She was the easiest to deal with.
Much like Fia, Jana squeaked. Christopher didn’t give a fuck.
“Go! Now!”
Bursting into tears, she turned and ran back the way she came.
One bitch down, another one to go. He crooked his finger at Fia. “C’mere.”
“It isn’t…Fia didn’t do anything, Outlaw,” Kaia said uneasily, planting himself in front of her.
Christopher drew his gun from his side and pointed it at Kaia. “If I gotta fuck you up to fuck her up, I fuckin’ will, so I suggest you shut the fuck up.
“I’m sorry, Outlaw!” Fia sobbed from behind Kaia.
“No, cunt, you fuckin’ not. I’m fuckin’ sick of you always adjacent to bullshit that got to do with my wife and daughter. You the most death wishy bitch that somehow escape fuckin’ death, I ever fuckin’ met.”
“Listen to me for one moment,” Kaia said, a motherfucker without the sense of a fucking turtle.
“Get the fuck to the fuckin’ house, Kaia,” Christopher ordered. “Ima deal with your fuckin’ ass later.”
“Don’t hurt Fia—”
“I ain’t hurtin’ that bitch,” Christopher barked.
“Ima fuckin’ kill her. Cuz, see, I’m sick to death of her bullshit.
You fucked her? Good for you and your cock, but that bitch don’t like Rebel.
And, you, motherfucker, gave her ammunition to use against my girl.
Fuck you and fuck Fia. Before she hurt Rebel, she fuckin’ dyin’. ”
“Please!” Fia screamed, falling to her knees and crawling from behind Kaia, putting herself within firing range. “Please, please! I swear I won’t tell Rebel. Please, I swear. I don’t want to die. Please.”
Christopher had his license to kill, but he wasn’t sure if Megan really wanted him to kill cunts, even stupid ones that didn’t have a fucking brain anyway.
He’d have to ask her. He slid his gun back in his holster.
“This my final fuckin’ warnin’ to all you cunts.
Fuck with Rebel or Megan, and I’m killin’ you. ”
Megan wouldn’t care if Fia was actively fucking with one of them, but this?
Where Rebel might not ever find out? She might still have a problem with him killing them.
On the fucking flipside, she didn’t give a fuck that he shot the fuck out of Nyx.
Her only problem was he’d done it in front of Ransom.
Nope, who the fuck was he kidding? Megan wanted most of these cunts dead, but especially Fia. Christopher’s problem was he still didn’t want her to be so bloodthirsty. That decided him.
“Fia, don’t make me fuckin’ regret not killin’ you,” Christopher warned. “Get the fuck up and get the fuck outta here.”
She stumbled to her feet, her sobs working on his goddamn nerves. Kaia reached for her but halted at Christopher’s growl. She turned and ran out.
“She don’t have a way back to the trailer,” Kaia said.
Diesel snorted.
“That ain’t my fuckin’ problem or yours,” Christopher said coldly.
Kaia looked toward the door, then back at Christopher. “Don’t tell Rebel. Please?”
One of those bitches giggled.
Not caring who, Christopher grabbed the one closest to him by the throat, ready to choke her out.
It was Heidi, a cunt slightly less vicious than Nyx had been but still not nice.
He didn’t have a clue where the fuck Diesel and his motherfuckers found these young brutal bitches that would cause more problems than give pleasure.
Back in the day, truly terrible bitches cropped up.
But one replaced the other. They weren’t dealing with them all at the same fucking time.
Or, fuck, most of them had been better at hiding their bullshit.
They’d been better cooks and housekeepers, too.
“Listen up, cunt. I suspect your fuckin’ ass giggled. Ain’t givin’ a good fuck. You open your motherfuckin’ mouth to my daughter, I will cut your fuckin’ head off. Underfuckinstand?”
Her shoulders shaking as she began to cry, she nodded. He shoved her away.
“I suggest you put that fuckin’ word out,” Christopher warned. “All fuckin’ bitches, get the fuck out now.”
They left. Kaia stood in the same spot he’d been in since he saw Christopher and froze.
“See you, fuckhead? You playin’ with fuckin’ fire.
I ain’t tellin’ Rebel. I understand you a motherfucker with needs.
But the position you puttin’ me in? My relationship with her fucked up enough.
My woman grievin’ and stressed and tryna hold shit together.
I gotta fuckin’ tell her you fucked one of Rebel’s biggest haters again.
If Megan tell me to fuck that bitch up, she dead.
Remember that when you bringin’ flowers to her fuckin’ funeral. ”
Kaia’s chin trembled.
“Get the fuck out.”
His shoulders slumping, he turned just as Bishop staggered from the back, another naked, hungover motherfucker.
“Cover your fuckin’ cock and get home now, motherfucker,” Christopher roared, wishing he’d stayed home to deal with his own fuckery.
Not asking questions, Bishop rushed away.
“Kaia?” Christopher called before he walked outside.
“Sir?”
“I suggest you turn that fuckin’ boohooey frown upside fuckin’ down and smile until your fuckin’ face hurt.”
“Okay,” he said miserably and left.
Walking to Narci, Christopher snatched his ponytail and banged his head against the bar, knocking him the fuck out, then moving aside so he could hit the goddamn floor.
He was the fucking dealer, so he was the motherfucker who gave Diesel the fucking drugs.
Christopher stepped between Torrin and Diesel. “Jana a fuckin’ addict, yeah? A fuckin’ current addict, not a past one who fell off the fuckin’ bandwagon, yeah?”
Diesel glanced away.
“No wonder you so fuckin’ determined to marry her. You turned her onto drugs.”
“I didn’t, Uncle Christopher. She was already one when we met.”
“Then she turned you onto drugs?”
Diesel shook his head. “Club life started me done that path. Tabitha finished it.”
That fucking motherfucking bitch.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Christopher,” Diesel said.
Frustrated, Christopher punched the side of Diesel’s head. “Ain’t I fuckin’ told you to stop usin’ fuckin’ drugs? I fuckin’ asked you if you needed rehab.”
“I don’t—”
“Then you need a motherfuckin’ bullet in your goddamn head.
I ain’t puttin’ up with that bullshit from you, Diesel.
You stop usin’ the drugs with rehab or without or I’m fuckin’ killin’ you.
” He punched his jaw. “Cuz, see, I suspect you got fuckin’ high.
Jana got high and you let whoever fuck her.
Wasn’t no fuckin’ reason for her to disrespect herself and you like she did by walkin’ into the fuckin’ bar naked, if you ain’t let her pitch her pussy. ”
Shame crossed Diesel’s face.
Christopher laughed bitterly. “See, fuckhead, that’s why Ima fuckin’ kill you if you ain’t givin’ up coke. Cuz you lose all your motherfuckin’ sense. You get fuckin’ high and you don’t give a good fuck about morals or decency.”
Which meant he’d sleep with Rebel, and her age wouldn’t matter.
“We were just partying, Uncle Christopher. Shit got out of hand. She’s a former addict,” he insisted, hanging his head. “I-I just talked her into doing a line with me. Don’t be angry with her. Or make her leave. I need her with me.”
“Yeah, motherfucker, and we both know why. Fuck you.”
“Please,” he whispered. “She keeps me grounded. I care about her. You have nothing to worry about.”
“How about if you or her get high again, I kill both you fuckheads?” Christopher barked, fed-up.
“Fair,” Diesel responded.
“Fair?” Christopher asked with incredulity. “You think riskin’ her fuckin’ life, puttin’ it on the fuckin’ line is fair?”
Diesel nodded.
“Then, motherfucker, you ain’t ever cared about Jana. You wouldn’t be so fuckin’ cavalier with her life.”
“I promise I’ll do better.”
Ignoring Diesel, Christopher turned to Torrin and punched his jaw. “What the fuck happened with bein’ his friend and lookin’ out for him?”
“I was fucking when Narci gave him the blow.”
At that moment, Narci groaned. Furious, Christopher stormed to that fuckhead and kicked his side. He moaned.
“Fuckin’ fuckhead, sit the fuck up,” Christopher ordered.
“Outlaw,” Narci managed.
“Fuck you. I told your motherfuckin’ ass not to have drugs on premises last night.”
“I couldn’t sell last week’s inventory. I was expecting more business than I got and was going to lose money,” he gasped. “I swear. You didn’t give the order until Saturday morning. I thought I had some buyers, but the sales fell through. I swear! I swear, Outlaw.”
“Motherfucker—”
Christopher’s ringing phone stopped him. By the ringtone, it was Derby. He had special tones for all his support club presidents.
Taking his phone out of his pocket, answering and putting it on speakerphone, he set it on the bar, then put Narci in a chokehold and dragged him to his feet.
“Are you there, Outlaw?” Derby asked, sounding a little more normal than he had for the past couple of days.
“Talk to me,” Christopher said, ignoring Narci’s struggles.
“I was just calling to tell you there’ll be no need for any tributes for Gypsy.”
“Yes the fuck there is. Megan grievin’ for your woman. That’ll help—”
“I had Gypsy cremated yesterday, Outlaw,” Derby announced.
Narci went limp, unconscious.
Christopher let that motherfucker drop to the floor. “You did fuckin’ what?”
“It was getting out of hand, all the shit planned for her. Thanks for the thought though, brother. I’m going have my dick sucked, so I’ll talk to you later.” He disconnected.
Cursing, Christopher stormed to his office and slammed the door shut.
How the fuck would he break that news to Megan?